Salvador Dalì: Renaissance-inspired Surrealism

Portrait of Salvador Dalì, Philippe Halsman, Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

Rome’s first exhibit celebrating the life and work of Salvador Dalì in almost 60 years opened this week at the Complesso Vittoriano. While I am always up for a new exhibit, I wasn’t necessarily expecting to be blown away by this one. I showed up at the exhibit expecting to see some melting clocks and such. I don’t think it’s a mystery to anyone who reads this blog what my artistic preferences are. I have absolutely nothing against Surrealism, but it doesn’t exactly boil my blood either.

Nevertheless, this exhibition did. I didn’t realize how greatly Dalì was directly inspired by Italian Renaissance art for so many of his works. As the exhibit takes place in Italy, it’s not a surprise that they stressed this particular detail at the press conference, but I didn’t imagine to what an extent it was true. Imagine my delight when the first work I encountered was this:

Madonna of Port Lligat (first version), Salvador Dalì, 1949. Haggerty Museum of Art, Milwaukee

Why, hello, Piero della Francesca, what are you doing here? I love quoting in art, just like I love it in music. When I discovered that the haunting melody from Rachmaninoff’s 2^nd piano concerto was echoed in the 1970s pop ballad All by myself by Eric Carmen, I was thoroughly delighted, and although you cannot exactly compare 70s pop with the likes of Dalì, this work caused the same shiver of recognition. Although both Madonna and Child are completely different, the shell and the suspended egg are unmistakable.

Madonna and Child, enthroned with saints (Brera Altarpiece), Piero della Francesca, 1472. Galleria Brera, Milano.

Even more unmistakable is Dalì homage to Michelangelo's first Pietà. He called it a "geological echo" due to the many rock formations that are unfortunately not very visible in this reproduction.

Geological Echo: The Pietà, Salvador Dalì, 1982. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

The Pietà, Michelangelo Buonarroti, 1497-99. St. Peter's Basilica, Rome

Study for Atomic Leda, Salvador Dalì, 1947. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

I adore this unexpected combination of Leonardo da Vinci's Leda and the Swan and Vitruvian Man.

Leda and the Swan (copy), Leonardo da Vinci, 1510-1515. Galleria Borghese, Rome

Dematerialization near the nose of Nero, Salvador Dalì, 1947. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

Dalì's inspiration by Italian art was not limited to works of the Renaissance as this "dematerialization" of the nose of Nero shows. The work was accompanied by the bust of Emperor Nero from which Dalì took his inspiration.

Destino: Large Head of Greek God, Salvador Dalì 1946. Walt Disney Animation Studios, Burbank

This still from the Disney short animated film Destino, co-created by Dalì is a fantastical recreation of this bust of Zeus from Otricoli that is on display beside it.

Head of Zeus, 1st century BC Roman original, Antiquarium Comunale, Otricoli

Elephant with Obelisk, Salvador Dalì, 1946. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

Anyone who has spent more than a little amount of time in Rome would recognize the elephant carrying an obelisk that was born from the unparalleled imagination of Gian Lorenzo Bernini. But surely only Dalì would have thought to add spiders' legs to the elephant.

L'elefantino, Gian Lorenzo Bernini, 1667, Piazza Santa Maria sopra Minerva, Rome

Self-portrait with Raphaelesque Neck, Salvador Dalì, 1921. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

Dalì felt a particular affinity to Raphael, even going so far as to call him his altar-ego. This self-portrait shows just how much he admired him, that he even strove to resemble him. "I let my hair grow long, as long as that of a girl, and looking at myself in the mirror, I loved to assume that melancholy expression, the fascinating stance of his self-portrait. How I would have liked to look like him!"

Self-portrait, Raphael Sanzio, 1506. Uffizi Gallery, Firenze

All of these Dalì works are part of the first section of the exhibit, far and away my favorite. But the exhibit also goes on to explore his later years with works that came solely from his own ingenious imagination and perspective, like the "soft" self-portrait below.

Soft self-portrait with grilled bacon, Salvador Dalì, 1941. Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí, Figueres

See my Exhibits on Now page for information on when and where to visit this brilliant exhibit.

Photo sources:

1, 13, 15: provided courtesy of Comunicare Organizzando Press Office
other sources:  2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14

Liked it? Then share:

Tweet

Save on Delicious

A taste of home: The Guggenheim comes to Rome

Grrrrrrrrrrr!! Roy Lichtenstein, 1965. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

If you're getting a bit ODed on Italian art, if Caravaggio, Tintoretto, Guercino and all the Renaissance masters are getting you down, if you're an American, like me, living in Rome and trying to make sense of this crazy country, and just need a little bit of home so that things will make sense again, then have I got an exhibit for you! (There's always something on in Rome to solve any problem!)

Untitled (Green Silver), Jackson Pollock, 1949. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

60 works from the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum in New York and the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice are on display at the Palazzo delle Esposizioni. And even though Italian art could never, ever get me down, and even though Abstract Expressionism will never make things make sense to me, I enjoyed the exhibit nonetheless.

Untitled, Mark Rothko, 1947. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

As post-war American art is really not my forte, I will not pretend to wax philosophical about it, but I will offer a couple of words about the exhibit. It covers 5 major genres of 20th century art: Abstract Expressionism, Pop Art, Minimalism, Post-Minimalism/Conceptual Art and Photorealism. The first three exhibition rooms are dedicated to Abstract Expressionism, and thereafter there is one room dedicated to each genre.

Untitled, Mark Rothko, 1942. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

The works on display date from 1945 to 1980 and the exhibit seeks to fully explore the artistic movements of the American Avant-guard during a time in which the United States became one of the most important centers for the creation and promotion of new art.

Orange Disaster no. 5, Andy Warhol, 1963. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

I must admit I liked the Pop Art and the Photorealism works well and above the rest. That probably says something about my lack of imagination or education, or both I expect! This gumball one fascinates me. Why? I don't know. Maybe because I had a gumball machine (a real one that you had to put pennies in) when I was a little girl, and it must take me back. I just want to dive right in to all its colorful, sugary goodness. I was fascinated by how realistic these paintings are, how much some of them look like photographs. Not this one nearly as much as some of the others.

Gum Ball no. 10: "Sugar Daddy", Charles Bell, 1975. Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, New York

If you're American and a bit starved for some home-cooked art, or if like me American Avant-guard art is anything but familiar, either way, you'll enjoy this visually stunning and thought provoking exhibit. See my Exhibits on Now page for the whens and wheres.

All images provided courtesy of Azienda Speciale Palaexpo

Tweet

Save on Delicious

Photographs by Andrea Pacanowski: you won't believe your eyes

Hello my sweet bloglings, have I got a treat for you today! A brand new exhibit opened this past Friday at the Museum of Rome in Trastevere. On display are 40 works by Roman contemporary photographer Andrea Pacanowski. One look at these images will send your mind swirling in a kaleidoscope of colors, but there's something else, something you won't believe.

The title of the exhibit is: Before me: the crowd and the religious experience. I agree with you, that doesn't translate very well. All'infuori di me (meaning literally 'besides me' or 'except for me') is a quote from the first commandment: "Thou shalt have no other gods before me". Folla does mean crowd, but it is a strong word, could even be translated as mob in certain cases.

The photos were captured the holiest cities of the world's major monotheistic religions, mostly Jerusalem, Fez and Rome. The subject of every work is a religious mass, a large group of people coming together for prayer, worship or ritual. But what sets Pacanowski's photos apart is not their subject matter or their composition, or the glorious colors he captures. It is the almost unbelievable fact that he uses no post-production techniques of any kind. Let me say that again:

He uses no post-production techniques of any kind. Not only that, each of the images is captured with old fashioned film. Absolutely nothing digital about these photographs.

I'm guessing your reaction is like mine when I saw these photos for the first time: disbelief. But it's true. Then how? How did he do it? Well I was tempted to ask him just that when I saw him at the inauguration, but I was overcome by a rare bout of shyness, and a worry that I hadn't read the press release thoroughly, so not wanting to embarrass myself, I kept my mouth shut.

After a bit of post-exhibit studying, I found out his secret. (Spoiler alert, if you'd prefer to visit the exhibit without knowing, stop reading now!)

Each photograph is merely a reflection of an image. None of the subjects were shot directly. Some kind surface, such as canvas, wood or glass, was applied with either chalk, paint, silicone or some other substance, and then scratched or in other ways manipulated. Then the prepared surface was set up in such a way that it caught the reflection of the subject and voilà.

These mesmerizing photos look at once like watercolors, complete abstract art and impressionist paintings. Like impressionist art, many of them have to be looked at from several steps back to be able to recognize the subject. But by studying them close up, you are able to guess at some of the particulars of the preparatory technique, which is every bit as fascinating.

A tiny computer screen will never do justice to these amazing photos, so do yourself a favor and go see this astounding exhibit in person. See my Exhibits on Now page for visiting information.

I will leave you with the capolavoro of the exhibition. At first you may simply see a Catholic procession and nothing else. But look a little closer, or, on second thought, look a little further away. Once you see it you won't be able to imagine how you missed it before.

All images copyright Andrea Pacanowski and provided courtesy of Zètema Press Office.

Liked it? Then share:

Tweet

Save on Delicious

Procrastination and over-sharing: a blogger's dilemma

I woke up this morning to a love note (complete with stick-figure drawing) from the Maritino in honor of our nine-monthiversary. (I guess we're still in that annoying honeymoon phase.) In addition to making me giddy and teary at the same time, it reminded me it's time for another wedding post! (I missed this little tradition last month).

When I first got the idea of sharing little tidbits of my wedding on the 29th of each month, I thought I would be creating light-hearted posts about my many Rome-inspired DIY projects, or at most sharing funny anecdotes about the challenges of planning a bi-cultural wedding. But as usual I started over thinking it. I thought it would be cool to tell the back story of what brought me to the altar (alongside the greatest man alive), and this included the telling of what brought me to Italy, since if I hadn't moved to Italy, it's highly unlikely I would have met said greatest man. Before I knew it I was writing about my great-great-grandparents and the hand of fate that led me to come here, and if any of you have been following this ambling string of posts (anyone?), I'm sure you're wondering when I'm going to get to the point.

Well, I've been putting it off actually. You see, despite writing a blog (and we all know only narcissists who love revealing all of the vile and personal details of their lives to total strangers write blogs), I've been hesitant to begin to reveal what I know will not just be musings about garters and flowers, but what is actually a deeply personal and probably excessively sentimental story. It's a story I want to tell, but part of me feels incredibly silly, revealing my girlish ideas about destiny and love. And beyond that, does anybody out there actually care to read it?

Ah, it's been a long day, and the hour hand is sneaking closer and closer to twelve... I am about to let myself off the hook for this month. Just too sleepy to open up my diary for the world to read tonight. Besides, I've got to post on the 29th, haven't I? (Excuses, excuses.)

So, dearest bloglings, I apologize for the lack of content in this post, but it has given me the courage to tell you a story, so stay tuned and you'll hear it next month (that is, unless I can think up another story about my ancestors to tell you instead). I thank you for your patience with me. Goodnight.

 

Photo source

Tweet

Save on Delicious

Antique Italian Maps at the Vittoriano

Le speranze del Bepi pel prossimo cinquantenario, Anonymous, L'Asino. 1911

I warn you now, dearest bloglings, the Pines of Rome is going to get a bit exhibit-heavy in the next few days. There are just so many amazing mostre on right now! One in particular, free of charge and hosted at the Complesso del Vittoriano, took me three weeks to see because of two weekend snowstorms in Rome that saw nearly every site in the city closed all weekend.

Italian Panorama, Anonymous, 1861

I finally had a chance to visit this small but lovely exhibit weekend before last, Antica Cartografia d'Italia. Beautiful detailed maps dating from the 1500s onward are on display, making for a lovely and enjoyable pre-lunch outing. In addition to maps, illustrated cover pages of antique atlases are also on display.

Sexta Europae Tabula, Silvano Bernardo, 1511

This exhibit was a real treat for me due to my life-long love of maps. I inherited this passion from my father, and I can spend hours pouring over them. My favorite are city maps, especially when they allow me to study how that particular city has changed and expanded over time, as well as how they have stayed the same. Alas, very few city maps are to be seen at this exhibit, but the region and country maps are nevertheless absorbing.

Italian Unity, Map of Italy, Pinot and Segaire. ca 1861

By far the most amusing and enlightening maps on view at this exhibit are the comical ones, most of which depict Europe during World War I, although some date back to the late 1800s. We've all seen and laughed over the clever and often spot-on images like the ones below by Yanko Tsvetkov that depict Europe or the world according to specific groups or nationalities.

Europe according to Italians, by Yanko Tsvetkov

Europe according to Americans, by Yanko Tsvetkov

Europe according to the Vatican, by Yanko Tsvetkov

But who knew this type of satirical map dated back at least 150 years? The main difference is that the old Italian ones are even more astute and more artistically rendered. (Please forgive the quality of the next four photos, I took them myself.)

Hark! Hark! The dogs do bark! Johnson, Riddle and Co. 1914

The map above depicts Europe at the onset of World War One with the various countries depicted in canine form while Russia literally steam-rolls in. Germany and Austria are tethered together as Britain releases his mighty fleet of ships. Spain is still bullfighting and Italy is a pistol-weilding carabiniere.

Europe in 1914, B. Crité, 1914.

The map above is dominated by the Tsar of Russia. I love that nothing is going on in Finland except a few bears prowling around, while Sweden and Norway look on calmly and the Austro-Hungarian Empire is already a graveyard (literally).

Kill that Eagle, Anonymous, European Revue, 1914

Kill that Eagle shows a female but nevertheless fierce France attempting to pierce the German eagle, with Britain rolling up his sleeves to join the fight. Austria, depicted as a clown, is torn between Germany and Yugoslavia and looks in terror as the Russia literally bears down upon him. Spain and Scandinavia are nothing but idle spectators while Italy appears to be either singing or reciting poetry. Typical.

John Bull and his friends, Fred W. Rose, 1900

In the map above dated 1900, Russia is a menacing octopus strangling Poland and Siberia with tentacles reaching from Finland to China. France, Spain and Ireland are depicted as women while the rest of Europe, a choatic mess, are weapon bearing military leaders. The cleverest detail is the red Salwar pants that illustrate Turkey, who is literally leaning on Greece.

But this one below is by far my favorite. It sums up perfectly the Unification of Italy with triumphant Giuseppe Garibaldi ousting Pope Pius IX (Sardinia) and his Papal Tiara (Corsica).

Italy, Harvey Williams, 1869

This exhibit ends 4 March, so don't tarry! Find practical information at my Exhibits on now page.

Photo sources: 5, 6, 7 by Yanko Tsvetkov
8, 9, 10, 11 by author
All other images provided courtesy of Comunicare Organizzando press office.

Liked it? Then share:

Tweet

Save on Delicious

Twelfth Night: Shakespeare in Rome!

There's absolutely nothing like a night at the theatre, especially one as intimate and cozy as Teatro Belli in Trastevere. (The added bonus that it's five minutes walking from my house also makes it quite attractive.) Last night I had the pleasure of seeing a dozen or so talented and mostly amateur actors treading the boards in Twelfth Night, one of Shakespeare's lesser-performed comedies.

Eternal Lines is a small English-language theatre company in Rome that puts up a few shows a year, with usually at least one by Shakespeare. For any of you out there who have seen Shakespeare translated into Italian (almost as bad as Woody Allen in Italian) you'll know how vital this company is for us Anglo-Saxon expats here in Rome. Lucky for us we can count on director Douglas Dean, veteran Shakespearean actor and regular performer at the Pendley Shakespeare Festival, to give us our at least once-yearly injection of iambic pentameter to keep our pulses steady. The fact that Dean took a part in this production was an added bonus.

Michael Fitzpatrick as Malvolio

Highlights of the show were the perfectly played combination of prissiness and ridiculousness of Michael Fitzpatrick as a besotted Malvolio, Rishad Noorani's smug yet likable Duke Orsino and Carolyn Gouger as the saucy and scheming maid Maria. But hands down the most brilliant and enjoyable moments of the night were brought to you by James Butterfield as Sir Andrew Aguecheek and director Douglas Dean as Sir Tobias Belch. Dean and Butterfield's combined energy electrified the stage, their timing was impeccable and their delivery spot-on, every time. They played off each other marvelously and it was a shame every time they walked off stage.

James Butterfield, Douglas Dean and Shane Hartnett up to no good

James Butterfield as Sir Andrew

A few commendable Italian actors, notably Francesca Albanese as Olivia, are to be congratulated for giving credible and fluent performances. In the realm of Shakespeare this is no easy task when English is your first language, much less your second.

Francesca Albanese as Olivia

The most surprising performance of the night was by Micky Martin playing Feste, the rambunctious fool who, I must admit, began the show by grating on my nerves with his over-the-top antics. He astonishingly went on to play the mandolin and even the harp with skill and musicality, his singing voice surprisingly clear. By the end he had won the audience's hearts with his passionate playing, off-color jokes and boisterous physical comedy, which, when you think about it, is exactly the role a fool is meant to play. I was doubly impressed when I learned all three of the songs he performed were also his own compositions.

Micky Martin as Feste

Hartnett, Dean and Carolyn Gouger as Maria

Angelo Esposito as Sebastian and Emma Lo Bianco as Viola.

A marvelous night was had by all, and really, with cross-dressing, mistaken identities, forged love letters, pratical jokes, dueling cowards and unrequited love, how could you expect anything less? Twelfth Night may have closed its run, but there is more to come from Eternal Lines. Their next production, Waiting for the Parade will be playing 17-22 April at Teatro San Genesio in Prati.

All photos by Julia Charity and posted with permission.

Liked it? Then share:

Tweet

Save on Delicious