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Through the ensuing years I took many trips to that museum and spent countless hours gazing at the creation, which influenced and molded me creatively. In the spring or summer of 1973, when I was doing commercial photography for European magazines, I received an assignment from Oui magazine. They asked me to travel to Cadacades, Spain to re-create the wedding portrait for Salvador Dali and his wife Gala on the occasion of their Golden Anniversary. For me, the assignment was the opportunity of a lifetime, to meet and photograph my idol. The experience was equivalent to meeting the likes of Rembrandt or Da Vinci. I accepted the commission without hesitation. From the airport I hailed a taxi and had only to say, "Take me to Salvador Dali's house." I arrived in the late afternoon. The house, rectangular, wider than it was tall and painted solid white, was built into a slope facing the road and the beach beyond. When I looked up I saw a confirmation that the house could belong to no one else. Perched atop the roof made of concrete and painted to match the house, a distinctive symbol of surrealism was displayed - an egg - ten feet tall. For me, being there, in front of Dali's house, was surrealistic in itself. I could hardly believe that all I had to do was walk up the steps and ring the bell attached to the white wooden door. I took several deep breaths and finally overcame my feeling of overwhelm enough to go toward the house and ring the doorbell. A round-faced woman in her late forties or early fifties answered. She wore a pastel pink dress with a white apron and her hair was pulled back into a bun. The simplicity of her clothes, humble and unassuming, was not at all what I had expected. After I told her who I was, the woman turned and guided me up a narrow arched stairway. The front part of the house was on a lower level than the back and although we had gone up a long staircase, we were at ground level in an outdoor courtyard. The courtyard, also white, was decorated with a large number of colorful stuffed animals including a golden boa, at least fifty feet long, whose body wove in and out of the ceiling and whose head rested on the back of a large, overstuffed, peach colored couch. Above the couch on a sort of concrete awning, stood the enormous egg. The servant motioned me to proceed toward the couch and left. Sitting upon it were a man and a woman, neither of whom took any notice of me. The woman, wearing a white chiffon dress, sat calmly reading a book. The man, sitting to her left, was resting his hand on the top of his gold cane, looking off into the distance. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be standing in the presence of Gala and Salvador Dali, but they said nothing, almost as though I wasn't really there. The longest minute of my life passed. Speechless, I started to wonder if what I was experiencing could possibly be a dream. I decided to make an effort to speak and introduce myself. "Hi, I'm Dick Zimmerman. The photographer from Oui magazine," I said. "I'm here to recreate your wedding photograph." Dali
glanced up at me and immediately went back to his book. Gala looked annoyed
and just grunted. They didn't care that I was there, it seemed. As for
me, I was finally meeting my idol and had expected a warm welcome - not
an unfriendly attitude. I spoke again,"It's a pleasure to meet you both." I received no response from either of them that time - not even a grunt. I felt awkward, just standing there, so I decided to sit in one of the chairs facing the couch. As the silence continued, I became more uncomfortable and wondered how on earth I would ever be able to accomplish my assignment. A few minutes later I heard the doorbell ring and, suddenly, Dali sprang from the couch and ran down to answer the door. That seemed odd to me, after all, he did have servants, but his action wasn't very surprising in comparison with everything else I had experienced since my arrival. Dali returned escorting two very pretty women, one blonde and one brunette, who were wearing low cut dresses. One woman had her right breast totally exposed and the other, her left. He brought them over to me and said, "This is Deek." Looking at their faces, I stood, shook their hands and muttered, "Hi, nice to meet you." With that said, Dali returned to his place on the couch, picked up his book and continued to read. The women turned around and sat in two chairs facing me on my left side. I sat down, feeling dazed and confused. Nothing seemed real to me anymore. No one spoke for at least five minutes. Finally, one woman put her breast back where it belonged and the other did the same. At that point the blonde one came over to me, smiled and whispered in a Spanish accent, "You have passed the test!" During the entire ordeal, Dali and Gala had been watching me, sizing me up, deciding what kind of man I was. They had wanted to see my reaction to the different situations they had set up and I had met with their approval. What Dali and Gala would never know was that the mere fact of being in their presence had been so surreal to me, I couldn't have cared less about two naked women! Dali and Gala were now on their feet and smiling at me. "Welcome to our home!" they both said. Dali shook my hand warmly and Gala kissed me on both cheeks. I was finally getting the warm reception for which I had hoped, and even more. They were very gracious and treated me like a family member. That evening, Gala invited me to stay and the round-faced servant took my things up to one of the bedrooms. The next day, Gala gave me a personal tour of the Dali Museum in Figueros which was due to open that week. On another day, Dali allowed me to watch him paint in his studio. I considered it a great honor since, I had been told, the invitation was rarely extended and then, only to special people. I quietly sat, five to six feet behind him, as he painted a spoof of a Norman Rockwell self-portrait, where the artist is depicted leaning to his left and looking into a mirror. I've heard it said that behind every successful man there is a woman and, at the back of Dali's studio against the wall, sat Gala. From her position I could hear her making grunting sounds, approving or disapproving, as he applied each brush stroke. Seeing the oneness of their relationship, I realized the importance of my assignment. Unfortunately, every time I brought up the subject of the wedding portrait, Dali changed the subject. I didn't want to press the issue and risk irritating my host, so I stayed on as a guest and one day led to the next with no photo session in sight. I finally resigned myself to the idea that I would never take those wedding photos for Oui. I decided that, if I merely stayed there to experience a few days in the life of the most eccentric genius of our time, it was OK with me. Every day, after lunch, people would start to drop in - actresses, models, artists, the idle rich - visiting, dining and drinking wine. He seemed to be friends with everyone. On occasion he'd take all the visitors, and me, into town by taxi to his favorite restaurant where his usual table was always reserved. Every night was a social event. Not only did Dali paint and sculpt, but he also designed jewelry, clothes, silverware and you-name-it. He was constantly creating. One day Dali was trying to decide which of five alternate designs of a ring to use in his jewelry line. He asked for my input and listened carefully to what I had to say about each design in a way that made me feel like he thought my response was important. Later, a delivery boy came to the house and Dali asked him which of the five rings he liked best. I saw the boy's surprise and pride at being asked what he thought. Dali treated everyone around him like a special and important person. Watching him interact with others, made me grow and expand creatively. My most special moment with Dali took place on the third day of my visit, when I had the unique and intimate experience of sitting alone with him in his courtyard, philosophizing about life. He told me his greatest fear - death - and his greatest inspiration - Velasquez. He gave me a lesson on words that sound like their meaning, such as butterfly, which he pronounced buttaflyeee and then motioned into the air to show it flying away. We talked about how his fascination with time had affected his art and had inspired the depiction of surreal, melting timepieces. I wished my father could have seen me there in the company of that great man. I started to get the feeling that I was dreaming again and pinched my arm hard to be sure that the experience was real. With Dali looking into the distance and thinking about life, I was able to get a rare, un-posed photo of him. I raised my camera and squeezed the shutter to capture that most precious memory. I was never certain if he was aware of the fact that I was invading his private world or not. The moment was unique since the photographs normally taken of him were overly posed, with lips puckered and hand on cane, locking others out of his world. In that one instant I learned the value of time and the importance of capturing a special moment on film. After five days of enjoying Dali and Gala's hospitality, and no sign from either of them that we were going to do the photo shoot that I had been hired for, I packed up my gear and made ready to return to London and my normal life. I said my good-byes and was waiting in the courtyard for my taxi to arrive when Dali and Gala entered, wearing their wedding costumes, and said, "Deek! Now!" I couldn't believe that they chose that particular moment. I felt as if they'd been testing me the entire time I had been there, all the way up to the moment of departure.
As I was leaving they invited me to be the exclusive distributor of Dali's work in Bng land. I'll never forget the surprised looks on their faces as I replied, "Thank you for the offer but I could never mix business with pleasure." Despite the fortune that I could have made, the venture would have turned that precious and intimate experience into just another business meeting. That time I was the teacher and the lesson was mine. Whenever I'm back in New York I still visit the Metropolitan Museum and gaze in awe at "The Crucifixion" knowing that I had been in the master's presence, or was I? It's still so unreal! |
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2002,2003,2006 Z Portraitures, Inc. All Rights Reserved. |
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I
frantically unpacked my equipment, set up the lights and, sweat pouring
down my face, did a twenty minute shoot in about five minutes - shot a
full roll of film and completed the assignment I had somehow managed to
forget about. Yet another lesson on time from the man who was intrigued
with the concept.