Salvador was given notes of a genius. Diary of a genius (with illustration). I think it was no easier for me to be born than for the Creator to create the Universe. At least he then rested, and all the colors of the world fell on me

"One genius" about himself

Among the written evidence and documents related to the history of art of the 20th century, diaries, letters, essays, interviews in which surrealists talk about themselves are very noticeable. This is Max Ernst, Andre Masson, Luis Buñuel, and Paul Delvaux - but above all, Salvador Dali.

The traditions of introspective introspection and a kind of “confession” are well developed in the West and play a significant role in the panorama artistic culture at least from Montaigne's Essays to Matisse's articles on his own art. It is no coincidence that we have to name here first of all French names: they really mean extreme accuracy in describing their internal movements and aspirations, and wonderful feeling measures, harmonic rigor and balance. Let us recall the introspection of Diderot and Stendhal, Delacroix’s “Diary” and agree that this is so.

“The Diary of a Genius” by Salvador Dali was written by a man who spent a significant part of his life in France, formed there as an artist, and knew the art and literature of this country well. But his diary belongs to some other world, rather, predominantly fantastic, bizarre, grotesque, where nothing is easier than crossing the line of delirium and madness. The easiest way is to say that all this is the legacy of Catholic mysticism or the “Iberian fury” inherent in the Catalan. But things are not that simple. Many different reasons and circumstances played their role for the “Dali phenomenon” to arise, as we see it in “The Diary of a Genius.”

A diary book is, logically, one of the best ways address the reader with maximum confidence and tell about something deeply personal, while achieving special intimacy and friendly directness. But this is precisely what Dali’s book is not designed for. Rather, it leads to results that are the opposite of sincere mutual understanding. It often even seems that the artist chose the form of confidential confession in order to explode and refute this form and in order to further puzzle, amaze and, moreover, offend and anger the reader. This goal is achieved flawlessly.

First of all, it is achieved by constant, inexhaustibly varied, but always elevated and pathetic self-exaltation, in which there is something deliberate and exaggerated.

Dali often insists on his absolute superiority over everyone the best artists, writers, thinkers of all times and peoples. In this regard, he tries to be as modest as possible, and we must give him his due - here he is at his best. Perhaps, he treats only Rafael and Velazquez relatively leniently, that is, he allows them to take a place somewhere next to him. He unceremoniously disparages almost all the other great people mentioned in the book.

Dali is a consistent representative of radical Nietzscheanism of the 20th century. Unfortunately, it is impossible to consider the issue of Dali’s Nietzscheanism in its entirety here, but we will have to constantly remember and point out this connection. So, even praise and encouragement addressed to Friedrich Nietzsche himself are often similar in the mouth of Dali to the compliments of a monarch to his favorite jester. For example, the artist rather condescendingly reproaches the author of Zarathustra for weakness and unmasculinity. Therefore, mentions of Nietzsche ultimately turn out to be a reason to set himself as an example - Salvador Dali, who managed to overcome all pessimism and become a true winner of the world and people.

Dali condescendingly approves of the psychological depth of Marcel Proust - not forgetting to note that in the study of the subconscious he himself, great artist, went much further than Proust. As for such “little things” as Picasso, Andre Breton and some other contemporaries and former friends, then the “king of surrealism” is merciless towards them.

These personality traits - or, perhaps, symptoms of a certain mental state - cause a lot of controversy and speculation about how to understand Salvador Dali's "delusions of grandeur". Did he deliberately put on the mask of a psychopath or did he openly say what he thought?

Most likely, when dealing with this artist and person, one must proceed from the fact that literally everything that characterizes him (paintings, literary works, public actions and even everyday habits) should be understood as a surreal activity. He is very holistic in all his manifestations.

His “Diary” is not just a diary, but a surrealist’s diary, and this is a very special matter.

Truly insane farces unfold before us, which, with rare audacity and blasphemy, tell about life and death, about man and the world. With some kind of enthusiastic shamelessness, the author likens his own family no more and no less than the Holy Family. His adored wife (in any case, this adoration is constantly declared) plays the role of the Mother of God, and the artist himself plays the role of Christ the Savior. The name “Salvador,” that is, “Savior,” comes in handy in this blasphemous mystery.

Are those critics right who said that Dali chose a special and unique way to remain incomprehensible, that is, he spoke about himself as often as possible, as loudly as possible and without any embarrassment?

Be that as it may, the artist’s diary book is an invaluable source for studying psychology, creative method and the very principles of surrealism. True, it is a special, inseparable and very specific version of this mentality, inseparable from Dali, but in his example the fundamental foundations of the entire “school” are clearly visible.

Dream and reality, delirium and reality are mixed and indistinguishable, so that it is impossible to understand where they merged and where they were linked with each other with a skillful hand. Dali enthusiastically talks about his oddities and quirks - for example, about his inexplicable craving for such an unexpected object as an elephant skull. According to the Diary, he dreamed of dotting the seashore not far from his Catalan residence with many elephant skulls, specially imported for this purpose from tropical countries. If he really had such an intention, then it clearly follows that he wanted to turn the piece real world in the likeness of his surreal painting.

Here we should not be satisfied with a simplistic commentary, reducing to delusions of grandeur the idea of ​​​​remaking a corner of the universe in the image and likeness of a paranoid ideal. This was not just the sublimation of personal mania. Behind it stands one of the fundamental principles of surrealism, which did not at all intend to limit itself to paintings, books and other products of culture, but claimed more: to make life.

Of course, the most brilliant of geniuses, the savior of humanity and the creator of a new universe - more perfect than the previous one - is not obliged to obey the customs and rules of behavior of all other people. Salvador Dali strictly remembers this and constantly reminds of his exclusivity in a very unique way: he talks about what is “not customary” to talk about due to prohibitions imposed by shame. With the zeal of a true Freudian, confident that all prohibitions and restraining norms of behavior are dangerous and pathogenic, he consistently violates the “etiquette” of relations with the reader. This is expressed in the form of uncontrollable bravura frankness in stories about the role that certain bodily principles play in his life.

The Diary tells a story about how Dali sketched the naked buttocks of a lady during a social reception where both he and she were guests. The mischief of this narrative cannot, however, be associated with the Renaissance tradition of the life-loving eroticism of Boccaccio or Rabelais. Life, organic nature and human body in Dali’s eyes they do not at all resemble an attribute of the happy and festive fullness of existence: they are, rather, some kind of monstrous hallucinations, inspiring the artist, however, not with horror or disgust, but with an inexplicable frantic delight, a kind of mystical ecstasy.

I dedicate this book to MY GENIUS,

to my victorious goddess GALA GRADIVA,

my HELENA OF TROJAN, my HOLY HELENA,

my brilliant, like the surface of the sea,

GALE GALATEA IS SERENE.

Surrealism and Salvador DALI

"One genius" about himself

Among the written evidence and documents related to the history of art of the 20th century, diaries, letters, essays, interviews in which surrealists talk about themselves are very noticeable. This is Max Ernst, Andre Massoy, Luis Buñuel, and Paul Delvaux - but above all, Salvador Dali.

The tradition of introspective introspection and a kind of “confession” is well developed in the West and plays a significant role in the panorama of artistic culture at least from Montaigne’s Essays to Matisse’s articles on his own art. It is no coincidence that here we have to name French names first: they really mean both extreme precision in describing one’s internal movements and aspirations, and a wonderful sense of proportion, harmonious rigor and balance. Let us recall the introspection of Diderot and Stendhal, Delacroix’s “Diary” and agree that this is so.

“The Diary of a Genius” by Salvador Dali was written by a man who spent a significant part of his life in France and formed there as an artist. knew the art and literature of this country well. But his diary belongs to some other world, rather, predominantly fantastic, bizarre, grotesque, where nothing is easier than crossing the line of delirium and madness. The easiest way is to say that all this is the legacy of Catholic mysticism or the “Iberian fury” inherent in the Catalan. But things are not that simple. Many different reasons and circumstances played their role for the “Dali phenomenon” to arise, as we see it in “The Diary of a Genius.”

A diary book is, logically, one of the best ways to reach the reader with maximum confidence and talk about something deeply personal, while achieving special intimacy and friendly directness. But this is precisely what Dali’s book is not designed for. Rather, it leads to results that are the opposite of sincere mutual understanding. It often even seems that the artist chose the form of confidential confession in order to explode and refute this form and in order to further puzzle, amaze and, moreover, offend and anger the reader. This goal is achieved flawlessly.

First of all, it is achieved by constant, inexhaustibly varied, but always elevated and pathetic self-exaltation, in which there is something deliberate and exaggerated.

Dali often insists on his absolute superiority over all the best artists, writers, thinkers of all times and peoples. In this regard, he tries to be as modest as possible, and we must give him his due - here he is at his best. Perhaps, he treats only Rafael and Velazquez relatively leniently, that is, he allows them to take a place somewhere next to him. He unceremoniously disparages almost all the other great people mentioned in the book.

Dali is a consistent representative of radical Nietzscheanism of the 20th century. Unfortunately, it is impossible to consider the issue of Dali’s Nietzscheanism in its entirety here, but we will have to constantly remember and point out this connection. So, even praise and encouragement addressed to Friedrich Nietzsche himself are often similar in the mouth of Dali to the compliments of a monarch to his favorite jester. For example, the artist rather condescendingly reproaches the author of Zarathustra for weakness and unmasculinity. Therefore, mentions of Nietzsche ultimately turn out to be a reason to set himself as an example - Salvador Dali, who managed to overcome all pessimism and become a true winner of the world and people.

Dali condescendingly approves of the psychological depth of Marcel Proust - not forgetting to note that in the study of the subconscious he himself, a great artist, went much further than Proust.

Salvador Dali

Diary of a Genius

Surrealism and Salvador Dali

"One genius" about himself

Among the written evidence and documents related to the history of art of the 20th century, diaries, letters, essays, interviews in which surrealists talk about themselves are very noticeable. This is Max Ernst, Andre Masson, Luis Buñuel, and Paul Delvaux - but above all, Salvador Dali.

The tradition of introspective introspection and a kind of “confession” is well developed in the West and plays a significant role in the panorama of artistic culture at least from Montaigne’s Essays to Matisse’s articles on his own art. It is no coincidence that here we have to name French names first: they really mean both extreme precision in describing one’s internal movements and aspirations, and a wonderful sense of proportion, harmonious rigor and balance. Let us recall the introspection of Diderot and Stendhal, Delacroix’s “Diary” and agree that this is so.

“The Diary of a Genius” by Salvador Dali was written by a man who spent a significant part of his life in France, formed there as an artist, and knew the art and literature of this country well. But his diary belongs to some other world, rather, predominantly fantastic, bizarre, grotesque, where nothing is easier than crossing the line of delirium and madness. The easiest way is to say that all this is the legacy of Catholic mysticism or the “Iberian fury” inherent in the Catalan. But things are not that simple. Many different reasons and circumstances played their role for the “Dali phenomenon” to arise, as we see it in “The Diary of a Genius.”

A diary book is, logically, one of the best ways to address the reader with maximum confidence and talk about something deeply personal, while achieving special intimacy and friendly directness. But this is precisely what Dali’s book is not designed for. Rather, it leads to results that are the opposite of sincere mutual understanding. It often even seems that the artist chose the form of confidential confession in order to explode and refute this form and in order to further puzzle, amaze and, moreover, offend and anger the reader. This goal is achieved flawlessly.

First of all, it is achieved by constant, inexhaustibly varied, but always elevated and pathetic self-exaltation, in which there is something deliberate and exaggerated.

Dali often insists on his absolute superiority over all the best artists, writers, thinkers of all times and peoples. In this regard, he tries to be as modest as possible, and we must give him his due - here he is at his best. Perhaps, he treats only Rafael and Velazquez relatively leniently, that is, he allows them to take a place somewhere next to him. He unceremoniously disparages almost all the other great people mentioned in the book.

Dali is a consistent representative of radical Nietzscheanism of the 20th century. Unfortunately, it is impossible to consider the issue of Dali’s Nietzscheanism in its entirety here, but we will have to constantly remember and point out this connection. So, even praise and encouragement addressed to Friedrich Nietzsche himself are often similar in the mouth of Dali to the compliments of a monarch to his favorite jester. For example, the artist rather condescendingly reproaches the author of Zarathustra for weakness and unmasculinity. Therefore, mentions of Nietzsche ultimately turn out to be a reason to set himself as an example - Salvador Dali, who managed to overcome all pessimism and become a true winner of the world and people.

Dali condescendingly approves of the psychological depth of Marcel Proust - not forgetting to note that in the study of the subconscious he himself, a great artist, went much further than Proust. As for such “little things” as Picasso, Andre Breton and some other contemporaries and former friends, the “king of surrealism” is merciless towards them.

These personality traits - or, perhaps, symptoms of a certain mental state - cause a lot of controversy and speculation about how to understand Salvador Dali's "delusions of grandeur". Did he deliberately put on the mask of a psychopath or did he openly say what he thought?

Most likely, when dealing with this artist and person, one must proceed from the fact that literally everything that characterizes him (paintings, literary works, public actions and even everyday habits) should be understood as surrealistic activity. He is very holistic in all his manifestations.

His “Diary” is not just a diary, but a surrealist’s diary, and this is a very special matter.

Truly insane farces unfold before us, which, with rare audacity and blasphemy, tell about life and death, about man and the world. With some kind of enthusiastic shamelessness, the author likens his own family to no more and no less than the Holy Family. His adored wife (in any case, this adoration is constantly declared) plays the role of the Mother of God, and the artist himself plays the role of Christ the Savior. The name “Salvador,” that is, “Savior,” comes in handy in this blasphemous mystery.

Are those critics right who said that Dali chose a special and unique way to remain incomprehensible, that is, he spoke about himself as often as possible, as loudly as possible and without any embarrassment?

Be that as it may, the artist’s diary book is an invaluable source for studying psychology, creative method and the very principles of surrealism. True, it is a special, inseparable and very specific version of this mentality, inseparable from Dali, but in his example the fundamental foundations of the entire “school” are clearly visible.

Dream and reality, delirium and reality are mixed and indistinguishable, so that it is impossible to understand where they merged on their own, and where they were tied together by a skillful hand. Dali enthusiastically talks about his oddities and quirks - for example, about his inexplicable craving for such an unexpected object as an elephant skull. According to the Diary, he dreamed of dotting the seashore not far from his Catalan residence with many elephant skulls, specially imported for this purpose from tropical countries. If he really had such an intention, then it clearly follows that he wanted to turn a piece of the real world into a semblance of his surrealist painting.

Here we should not be satisfied with a simplistic commentary, reducing to delusions of grandeur the idea of ​​​​remaking a corner of the universe in the image and likeness of a paranoid ideal. This was not just the sublimation of personal mania. Behind it stands one of the fundamental principles of surrealism, which did not at all intend to limit itself to paintings, books and other products of culture, but claimed more: to make life.

Of course, the most brilliant of geniuses, the savior of humanity and the creator of a new universe - more perfect than the previous one - is not obliged to obey the customs and rules of behavior of all other people. Salvador Dali strictly remembers this and constantly reminds of his exclusivity in a very unique way: he talks about what is “not customary” to talk about due to prohibitions imposed by shame. With the zeal of a true Freudian, confident that all prohibitions and restraining norms of behavior are dangerous and pathogenic, he consistently violates the “etiquette” of relations with the reader. This is expressed in the form of uncontrollable bravura frankness in stories about the role that certain bodily principles play in his life.

The Diary tells a story about how Dali sketched the naked buttocks of a lady during a social reception where both he and she were guests. The mischief of this narrative cannot, however, be associated with the Renaissance tradition of the life-loving eroticism of Boccaccio or Rabelais. Life, organic nature and the human body in Dali’s eyes do not at all resemble an attribute of the happy and festive fullness of being: they are, rather, some kind of monstrous hallucinations, inspiring the artist, however, not with horror or disgust, but with an inexplicable frantic delight, a kind of mystical ecstasy.

By diary entries Dali passes through a continuous refrain of evidence about the physiological functions of his Organism, that is, about what is called in medical language digestion, defecation, flatulence and erection. And these are not just side antics that you can ignore. He speaks about his sacred inner and lower parts on the same sublime notes in which he speaks about the mysteries of the Universe or the postulates of the Catholic Church.

From “The Diary,” like from a Dali painting, not a single detail can be eliminated.

Why is this enfant terrible acting up? Why is this being done - is it really just for the pleasure of teasing and angering the reader?