Spanish artist (1904–1989)
Salvador Dalí (11 May 1904 – 23 January 1989) was a Spanish surrealist artist, born in Catalonia, Spain. He was a skilled draftsman, best known for the striking and bizarre images in his surrealist work and his exceptional way of life and expression.
From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Native Name:
Salvador Dalí i Domènech
Alternative Names:
Dalí
•
Felip Jacint Domenech
•
Felip Jacint Domènech
•
Salvador Dali
•
Salvador Dali Domenech
•
Salvador Dali i Domenech
•
Salvador Dali y Domenech
•
Salvador Dalm y Domenech
•
Salvador Dalí Domènech
•
Salvador Dalí y Domènech
•
Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dali y Domenech
•
Salvador Domingo Felipe Jacinto Dalí y Domènech
•
Salvador Felip Jacint Dali Domenech
•
Salvador Felip Jacint Dalí Domènech
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dali
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dali Domenech
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dali y Domenech
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dalí
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dalí Domènech
•
Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dalí y Domènech
•
Salvator Dali
•
Salvator Dalí
From Wikidata (CC0)
One morning with Ripolin [French paint] I painted a new-born that I then left to dry on the tennis-court. After two days I found it bristling with ants that made it move to the anesthetized, silent rhythm of sea-urchins. However I at once realized that this newborn child was none other than the pink breast of my girlfriend, being frenetically eaten by the shining, metallic thickness of the phonograph. But it wasn't her breast either: it was little pieces of my cigarette paper nervously grouped around the magnetic topaz of my fiancees ring.
The more I looked at his face [of Saint Sebastian] the more curious it seemed. That said, I seemed to have always known it and the aseptic morning light revealed its smallest details which such clarity, such purity, that I was impossible moved.. .In the upper part of the heliometer was St. Sebastian's magnifying glass.. .I put my eye to the magnifying glass, product of a slow distillation, at once numerical and intuitive. Each drop of water a number. Each drop of blood a geometry.
Just now I'm painting a beautiful woman, smiling, burnt to a crisp, with feathers of all colors, held up by a small die of burning marble; the die is in turn held up by a little puff of smoke, churned and quite; in the sky there are asses with parrot-heads, grasses and beach sand, all about to explode, all clean, incredible objective..
Telephone, pedal washbasin, white refrigerators gleaming with Ripolin [French paint], bidet, small phonograph.. ..objects of authentic and pure poetry (MPC p. 11).. ..The Parthenon was not built as a ruin. It was built on a new surface without patina, like our automobiles. / we will not always bear on our shoulders the weight of our father's corpse.