“The Maximum Speed of Raphael’s Madonna” (1954) is one of the paintings included in the exhibition “Dalí: The Late Work,” at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. (Credit: Erik S. Lesser for The New York Times)

by Emily Brown

The upturned mustache and beady eyes of Salvador Dali now cover billboards and buses in Atlanta. In August, the excitement of the Dali exhibit began as the High Museum welcomed this eccentric artist’s later works to Atlanta.

Recently I attended the exhibition with friends on a balmy Friday evening for Jazz Night, held on the third Friday of every month combining live music, cocktails and, of course, fabulous art. In between sips of Salvador Sangria, the conversation buzzed about the mystique and expertise of this Spanish artist.

Putting down cocktail glasses and stepping away from the music-filled atrium, the story of Salvador begins.

Entering the exhibit, you will feel as though his bulging black eyes are watching you – in bold photographs, quotes and film. You learn he is from Spain and has a passion for the Catalonia region.

The first two galleries, containing mustache shapes and photographs, try to prepare you for what is to come. However, when his art takes over – get ready – it’s terrifically tantalizing.

Take, for example, “The Speed of Raphael’s Madonna,” with its vibrant lazuline background containing floating rhinoceros horns. Dali was fascinated with the rhinoceros horn because its growth patterns are congruent with mathematical formulas.

Put on the 3D glasses to view his work in holograms. Sit down in a lip-shaped chair to find the hidden images in his work.  Ever thought of playing chess with finger pieces? Dali’s chess set, a homage to Marcel Duchamp, will fascinate you with its unusual pieces. Check out the film documenting his life and find out how Dali hob-knobbed with the likes of Andy Warhol. Can you imagine soup cans melting on a staircase?

The exhibit contains works not seen in the United States for more than 50 years as well as generous pieces loaned by the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Fla. From this exhibit you begin to gather a sense of a man who dissected images with fervor and energy, producing art in many forms including jewelry.

My top five Dali-isms from the exhibit:

1. He loved his wife. Dali married his beloved Gala in Paris on Jan. 30, 1934. Gala was in many of Dali’s works including “Madonna of Port Lligat” in which she is recast as the Virgin.
2. His work was often inspired by dreams. Think about your dreams. Can you imagine someone seeing them? Dali’s work brings form to these chaotic collages in the mind.  I wonder what Dali would think about the new movie Inception.
3. He appreciated classicism and worked in surrealism. He declared himself a classicist in 1938 after meeting with Freud. “You have to systematically create confusion, it sets creativity free,” said Dali. “Everything that is contradictory creates life.”
4. He used science to justify faith. Dali’s art became a medium for him to explore his faith through psychology, science and religion. For example, in “Assumpta Corpuscularia Lapislazulina,” Dali projects the ascent of the Virgin (with the face of Gala) as the result not of a miracle, but an atomic reaction. His late works chronicle his return to Roman Catholicism.
5. He used symbols to convey meaning. See ants? Think decay. Find hidden keys? It might just mean unlocking ideas. Dali packed layers of meaning into his work by using natural imagery.

Dali’s work will probably never be part of my home décor, but seeing it so close inspired me as he used his passion and skill to create brilliant absurdity in his juxtaposed realities.

A few logistical things. Get there by January; the exhibit ends Jan. 9, 2011. Consider going on a week day to prevent an elbow tango with other Dali fans.  The High Museum (www.high.org) is located in Atlanta Georgia on 1280 Peachtree Street; an easy drive down I-85. Ticket prices vary on age: $18 adults; $15 students and seniors; $11 children (ages 5-17).

“My Mind Will Never Be” by Art Rosenbaum (artrosenbaum.org)

Hinged

by Emily Brown

In college I had a creative writing professor who challenged us to write about art — to imagine ourselves in the narrative of a canvas. Ever since Dr. Judith Cofer challenged us as writers to dig for rhythms, figures of speech and language in strokes of color, I have never looked at art the same way: each piece of art is now a trove of stories for me.

Dr. Cofer changed my perspective about a lot of things in life, and it often started by introducing me to someone or something I had not known before. Dr. Cofer introduced me to Art Rosenbaum, an Athens, Ga., based artist whose art, like Sharon’s, easily lends itself to the roots of a story. Their style is strikingly different, but they both capture snapshots of everyday life, translating words with vivid strokes of color. Art’s style lends more to folk visions and voices, but both he and Sharon have a gift for making art an open ended conversation.

Here is, “Hinged,” a story that I have written about Art Rosenbaum’s piece, “My Mind Will Never Be.” (See image of painting above).

diptych [dip-tik]:

1. a hinged two leaved tablet

2. a tablet of wood or metal containing on one leaf the names of those among the living, and on the other those among the dead, for whom prayers and Masses are said.

The wisps of grass are soft and smooth, tickling her feet. She knows no other sweetness than Southern comforts: tomato aspic, gravel roads, fiddle drones and pink calla lilies.

When she feels the shiny lacquer of the wooden floors, she begins to feel something inside her change.  The blades of grass become tendrils, lifeless ringlets twining her body.

Don’t slam the door, Papa always says. But she hates the creaking of the door hinges.

Her eyelids crease with tiny folds of uncertainty. She looks up, pining for even the smallest shard of freedom in a mosaic of streaming light.

Although she might regret the choice, she steps onward, remembering His words: peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

She hates the creaking of the door hinges.

photo by SBM

(Chiaroscuro (kiːˈɑːrə.ˈskʊroʊ, –ˈskjʊroʊ, Italian for light-dark) in art is characterized by strong contrasts between light and dark, usually bold contrasts affecting a whole composition. It is also a technical term used by artists and art historians for using contrasts of light to achieve a sense of volume in modeling three-dimensional objects such as the human body.)

I have a new section in my art blog called, “Chiaroscuro.” Emily Brown has been kind enough to start writing  entries for my blog about art. She  admits that her art skills consist of stick figures and doodles, so she sticks to writing instead. However, she loves learning more about art, especially through traveling. And I believe she has interesting perspectives to share.

A graduate of the University of Georgia with a degree in journalism, she has a soft spot for gelato, handmade paper and Chianti after studying abroad in Cortona, Italy. She ran her first marathon in 2010 after meeting Mickey for the first time in Disney, and she is now hooked on marathon running and will run the NYC Marathon in November. In addition to writing and running, she enjoys cooking recipes from Real Simple, reading of all kinds, traveling, photography and games of Scrabble.

Stay tuned for regular entries by Emily. Happy reading!