I so enjoyed this exhibition, that I went back for a second, more detailed, look. Dali has always interested me, along with other surrealists, especially Magritte. I was always able to impose my own stories on Dali paintings, and it was one of the few artists that my Dad and I agree on. There was a print of a Dali sketch hanging at home for many years and I was always fascinated by it.
The exhibition itself looked at Dali's association with film making. This was done by collecting a series of films, photos and paintings with cinematic links. The films were shown in gallery rooms converted into small cinemas. The films themsleves covered a wide time line of the Moustached ones career. Ranging from 1929 to 1975.
I went twice, because the first time I really didn't have time to sit and watch the films, and as this was really the point of the whole thing, that seemed a waste. The design of the cinema rooms didn't help the situation first time round as they seemed to discourage casual viewing. This time I found sapces on the floor at the front, so that I was actually able to see the screens, rather than the backs of peoples heads.
So after all that, what did I think of the films? My first general comment is Surrealist films are great in a gallery such as this, as you can almost join them at any point, and this allows you to have to fill in yourself the allready minimal plot. 'Un Chien Andalou' (1929) is a classic, with certain elements transcending the fim itself. I remember being told about the more gruesome parts of this film by an enthusiastic art student at school. That it was filmed in 1929 and can still shock me and make me laugh out loud is a testament to it's originality. The follow up film L'Age d'or (1930) had it's great surreal moments, and was far more technically adept as a film, but it slowed slightly in places. Again though, it was shocking (probably the most scary shooting on a film I have ever seen) and amusing (a Pythonesque moment as a series of unrelated items, including a priest are propelled out a bed room window onto the ground below). The final scenes though had a truly daring representation of Christ, and it is no surprise to me that the film was banned after only ten days or release. The fact that neo-nazis hated it, and it was banned for fifty years makes me warm to it more than it probably deserves. Cow on a bed anyone?
The making of the Dali segment of 'Spellbound' (1945) were interesting, but this was the start of Dali repeatedly trying to get himself links with Hollywood, a union that was bound to fail. Dali was hardly going to American mainstream tastes in the 1940s. As a result it was not surprising that many of these collaberations came to nothing; the Spellbound piece was heavily editied, a collaberation with Fritz Lang was abandoned by the studio, even a promising year spent working on story boards at Disney was abandoned. Although, having said that the now finished 'Destino' (1946 +2003) is fantastic, a recreation of Dali paintings as animations which is a visual feast. Disney should be congratulated for having completed this piece so many years after shelving it. Time though was yet again against me, and I was unable to view 'Impressions of Upper Mongolia' (1975) and 'Chaos' (1960) fully, although, like many made for TV movies I doubted their abilty to match the celluloid efforts.
The paintings were fascinating, and I was able to drift into scenes of strange lands, where nothing seems to fit properly. I also saw another great portrait of an actor playing Richard III. Now stop me if I digress, but I din't start the year expecting to see one great portrait of an actor playing Richard III and I end up seeing two. How does this happen? The portrait of Olivier playing the aforementioned character was striking with it's alternative angles of the famous actors face. Hogarth's portrait of Garrett playing the evil king was equally striking, aloutgh it relied more on the way Garrett appeared to be mid oration.
The Tate also shoehorned in pieces from the permanent collection, therefore I had my obligatory meeting with the Lobster Telephone, which I have now seen in so many locations that I do believe it is breeding.
The exhibition itself looked at Dali's association with film making. This was done by collecting a series of films, photos and paintings with cinematic links. The films were shown in gallery rooms converted into small cinemas. The films themsleves covered a wide time line of the Moustached ones career. Ranging from 1929 to 1975.
I went twice, because the first time I really didn't have time to sit and watch the films, and as this was really the point of the whole thing, that seemed a waste. The design of the cinema rooms didn't help the situation first time round as they seemed to discourage casual viewing. This time I found sapces on the floor at the front, so that I was actually able to see the screens, rather than the backs of peoples heads.
So after all that, what did I think of the films? My first general comment is Surrealist films are great in a gallery such as this, as you can almost join them at any point, and this allows you to have to fill in yourself the allready minimal plot. 'Un Chien Andalou' (1929) is a classic, with certain elements transcending the fim itself. I remember being told about the more gruesome parts of this film by an enthusiastic art student at school. That it was filmed in 1929 and can still shock me and make me laugh out loud is a testament to it's originality. The follow up film L'Age d'or (1930) had it's great surreal moments, and was far more technically adept as a film, but it slowed slightly in places. Again though, it was shocking (probably the most scary shooting on a film I have ever seen) and amusing (a Pythonesque moment as a series of unrelated items, including a priest are propelled out a bed room window onto the ground below). The final scenes though had a truly daring representation of Christ, and it is no surprise to me that the film was banned after only ten days or release. The fact that neo-nazis hated it, and it was banned for fifty years makes me warm to it more than it probably deserves. Cow on a bed anyone?
The making of the Dali segment of 'Spellbound' (1945) were interesting, but this was the start of Dali repeatedly trying to get himself links with Hollywood, a union that was bound to fail. Dali was hardly going to American mainstream tastes in the 1940s. As a result it was not surprising that many of these collaberations came to nothing; the Spellbound piece was heavily editied, a collaberation with Fritz Lang was abandoned by the studio, even a promising year spent working on story boards at Disney was abandoned. Although, having said that the now finished 'Destino' (1946 +2003) is fantastic, a recreation of Dali paintings as animations which is a visual feast. Disney should be congratulated for having completed this piece so many years after shelving it. Time though was yet again against me, and I was unable to view 'Impressions of Upper Mongolia' (1975) and 'Chaos' (1960) fully, although, like many made for TV movies I doubted their abilty to match the celluloid efforts.
The paintings were fascinating, and I was able to drift into scenes of strange lands, where nothing seems to fit properly. I also saw another great portrait of an actor playing Richard III. Now stop me if I digress, but I din't start the year expecting to see one great portrait of an actor playing Richard III and I end up seeing two. How does this happen? The portrait of Olivier playing the aforementioned character was striking with it's alternative angles of the famous actors face. Hogarth's portrait of Garrett playing the evil king was equally striking, aloutgh it relied more on the way Garrett appeared to be mid oration.
The Tate also shoehorned in pieces from the permanent collection, therefore I had my obligatory meeting with the Lobster Telephone, which I have now seen in so many locations that I do believe it is breeding.
1 comment:
Ok, so I wanted to comment on the Mercedes repair. That's what you get for having a mercedes. Since I currently have a Nissan Sentra with a missing gas cap and a broken spedometer that smells like something died in the back seat, I wouldn't miss a little thing like a grille.
Yes, you have the right Melissa. I don't use Facebook regularly, and I initially totally missed your invite because... well, because I just overlooked it because it said Facebook, and most of the invites I get are just services trying to sell me "sex!" or "hot gurls!!" or the like.
Glad to see your face, even in a picture. Email me... at gmail... wait I don't think I can put my address on here... I'll email you... cool blog by the way, glad someone is getting some culture-- I've been watching Enterprise episodes on DVD!
Post a Comment