Salvador Dali: Disruption and Devotion

Halima Duarte

01.23.25

“My audience mustn’t know whether I’m spoofing or being serious; and likewise, I mustn't know either… Where does the deep and philosophically valid Dalí begin, and where does the bizarre and preposterous Dalí end?”

These words can be seen scrawled across the walls of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, where Salvador Dalí makes a striking appearance.

Dalí commands attention: controversial, rebellious, and ahead of his time. Patrons visit the gallery to witness Dalí challenging the traditional world around him — who he is and what made him is stored in every brush stroke. Dalí is, like all of us, a complex character — a product of our environments in all our greatness and flaws. Salvador Dalí represents many facets of life and expression, but the Museum of Fine Arts focuses on two: disruption and devotion.

DISRUPTION

“ I try to create fantastic things, magical things, things like in a dream. The world needs more fantasy. Our civilization is too mechanical. We can make the fantastic real, and then it is more real than that which actually exists.”

The word disruptor carries a negative connotation — it starts wars, incites arguments and creates chaos. It is, however, the perfect way to describe a man like Dalí who is often misunderstood for his erratic, otherworldly disposition.

But disruption is more than an upset or a negative.

Disruption is creativity. Disruption is shaking up traditions. Disruption is acknowledging the uncomfortable. Disruption is an expression, just as Dalí intended.

Like many artists, Dalí found inspiration in past creatives, but, instead of simply imitating, he challenged the conventions of art through still lifes. In his time, many painters produced static, standstill pieces. In what could be a metaphor for himself, however, Dalí reworked the art of still life into something more eccentric. The MFA displays Dalí’s take on the painter Floris van Dijck’s piece, “A Still Life with Cheese and Fruit.” In sharp contrast to the original work, Dalí adds life and whimsy to a style of art that can be described as dead. 

In his interpretation, “Nature Morte Vivante (Still-Life Fast Moving),” glasses and plates move through the air, food flies across the canvas and perceived chaos ensues. 

Though it is not on display in the MFA, the inspiration that prompted Dalí’s famous “Temptation of Saint Anthony” (1946) did make an appearance. Dalí did not just take inspiration, but flipped the script of art.

The original painting by David Teniers the Younger shows calm in the chaos of Saint Athony’s travel through Egypt. The painting depicts the imagery of the original story — monsters and demons hang near Saint Anthony, as women lead him into lustful temptations. However, Dalí’s interpretation heightens the nightmare — the monsters take on a more ghastly form with legs towering over Saint Anthony, and the terrain leaves Saint Anthony and his crucifix vulnerable. The temptations seem to be attacking Saint Anthony, and he is left with only his faith.

The horrific yet colorful monsters were obnoxious for the time, but it can be argued that Dalí added the struggle and vulnerability back into the story, showing Saint Anthony as he traveled through Egypt with nothing but his crucifix and his faith. Dalí stripped the story down to its core, accessing its power.

DEVOTION

“When painters believe in nothing, they end up painting nothing.”

Infamously, Dalí’s interpretations make it clear that interruption does not always come from a place of loathing — but devotion, love and understanding from his own lens. Devotion looks to him as his highest idols: his strained relationship with his religion, and his wife Gala.

Raised by a Catholic mother and Atheist father, his religious beliefs were more than strained. Along the walls of the MFA is evidence of his exploration into Catholicism —this time as an adult, on his own terms. Along the walls of the MFA is the mere evidence of his exploration.

His painting Christ in Perspective (1950) is one of Dalí’s most strategic interpretations of religion. Here, the traditional portrayal of Jesus’s crucifixion takes a turn — an upward view of Jesus on the cross instead of a traditional point of view, assuming the perspective of God watching his son’s crucifixion.

Gala was not only his wife, but also his muse; the person who sparked his creativity and pushed his edge. Dalí shows his gratitude for his wife along his career, but one of the highlights in the MFA was his portrayal of her as a saint – an idol, one touched by God. On display was Dalí’s “Sainte Hélène à Port Lligat” (1956) where Gala takes on the role of Saint Helena.

Towards the end of the exhibit is a vast, beautiful painting honed by immense detail. “The Ecumenical Council” shows his devotion ever forward — he uses it to not only pay homage to Pope John XXII and God, but also depicts his wife as Saint Helena, detailed in the same pose as his Port Lligat painting. 

In all the contexts of divinity before one in the painting, Dalí paints himself at the very bottom — a direct representation of Velasquez’s portrayal of himself in his painting “Las Meninas.” This being a direct interpretation of the things he puts above himself and sees as more glorious than him: his religion, and his wife.

Salvador Dalí, in all his perceived madness, saw the world in a different light — whether darker or brighter, simpler or more complex. He jump-started surrealism, not just as a new art form, but as a boundless mode of expression that defied convention. Dalí's influence extends beyond the canvas, laying the groundwork for future generations of artists.