W e’ll skip the boring introductions and bi- ographical data – everyone who loves and appreciates the work of the legend- ary Dalí already knows them, at least in principle. e love story of Dalí’s life, his true fairy tale, is one of the most bizarre, most inter- esting and “most loving” love stories of the 20 th century. Who was Gala? Gala was actually Elena Ivanovna Diakonova, a beau- tiful Russian woman from Kazan. A secretive, passionate and intuitive woman, she was an attractive lady with ol- ive skin and black eyes, who was a favourite among the circles of the intellectual elite. She had the ability to “sniff out” creative genius a mile away, and gladly spent days and hours with them, charming and inspiring them. Gala set sail on the waters of marriage with French poet Paul Él- uard, with whom she had a daughter, Cécile, but instead of being a peaceful harbour for her, this relationship was only a “ticket” to make acquaintances with the greatest artists of the time. And then she met a 25-year-old Salva- dor Dalí, a quite unusual eccentric who was also her jun- ior by a decade. Encounter like a thunderbolt Dalí described that first moment in his diary; the ex- plosive encounter that determined their lives and colour- ed them with madness, success and fear. “She is destined to be my Gradiva [the titular character of W. Jensen’s nov- el], the one who moves forward my victory, my wife,” he wrote. And indeed, from then until death, Gala was Dalí’s to the core, to the bone, she was the choice of his life and an essential – like air or food. For Salvador, meeting Gala was like being hit by a thun- derbolt – she fit perfectly into the image of an unfamiliar, elegant woman who often “haunted” him in his dreams. Stories tell of how the legendary painter, before heading out for a date with the beautiful Russian lady, smeared himself with his own blood, tore his clothes and scented himself with disgusting fish glue. “ at was a moment of weakness and madness, and it described how I felt before I met Gala. Yes, I was complete- ly insane before her, my brain was close to the brain of a pathological patient. She created out of my life real mysti- cism and real classicism,” said the Spaniard in one interview. Love as the centre of the Universe Gala was for Dalí an inexhaustible and eternal source of inspiration, a secret ingredient of verve and happiness in his life. Testifying to the greatness of his love is the fact that all the female characters in Dalí’s paintings were in- spired by her, and he signed most of his paintings with Gala-Salvador Dalí. She took on the role of his faithful companion, ally and friend, but was also a good organis- er, great assistant and advocate, or actually a kind of man- ager. She turned his art into a machine for making mon- ey, and in the race to accumulate wealth she was cunning, dedicated and direct - she never shied away from asking
Za Dalija je Gala bila nepresušna i večna inspiracija, tajni sastojak poleta i sreće Gala was for Dalí an inexhaustible and eternal source of inspiration, a secret ingredient of verve and happiness
for more money for her husband’s works. She often read to him while he was painting, but also told him what to paint, which colours to use and what mistakes to correct. Salvador and Gala’s love was great, but also infinitely insane, unrestrained, filled with sin and contradictions – just as they themselves were. Gala was disliked by many – they described her as “a woman of bad temper, disgusting and rude, who is like an angry dog”, who was loved by Sal- vador only because his hysteria would have become morbid without her. However, this fascinating lady survived only in the eyes of others, as there are no documents, letters, re- cords or interviews that would testify to how she felt and what she really thought. e fact is that this elegant Rus- sian was the woman who allowed Dalí to be a showman, carefully pulling the strings behind the screen; she was the only one who could follow him, understand him; she was his strength, his muse, the foundation of his creativity... is arrogant eccentric claimed that he would have been a miserable genius who had hallucinations if Gala hadn’t appeared, but in his outbursts of rage he would sometimes say that all his eruptions, unreasonable actions and farces were in fact born of his tragic wish to affirm himself in the eyes of Gala, who was for him the physical manifestation of God. Without Gala like being without the sun e greatest punishment and tragedy of life for him was that he had to live for another seven years after Ga- la’s death. He buried her in her favourite red Dior dress at the Castle of Púbol, which was her beloved haven and his gift to her. Without her, Dalí’s life lost meaning and direc- tion; he no longer had a compass – he became grey, didn’t eat, scratched his face, constantly screamed and cried, and never again painted anything. He wandered the house de- lirious, tired of hallucinations, talking only about Gala. He was often found by her grave at night. He died in 1989 to the sounds of the opera Tristan and Isolde. He was buried in his hometown of Figueres, near Barcelona, where his museum is located, which you must visit if you’re a fan of Dalí. Air Serbia flies to Barce- lona, so don’t miss the opportunity to walk in the foot- steps of the life and art of a genius.
umro je uz zvuke opere Tristan i Izolda He died to the sounds of the opera Tristan and Isolde 1989.
Love story » Ljubavna priča | 31
Made with FlippingBook interactive PDF creator