Les Guitares c. 1953

Editor: So here we have "Les Guitares," painted around 1953 by Salvador Dalí using acrylics. The painting bursts with lively colors, yet I feel strangely soothed looking at these geometric forms; it's like music on canvas, an explosion of guitars. What am I supposed to glean from this harmonious mess? Curator: Harmonious mess is perfect! This is Dalí dipping his toe into abstraction, far from his surreal dreamscapes, though with his signature flair of eccentricity. The guitars, almost childlike in their rendering, float within this vivid cosmos of color. Do you notice how he almost flattens the perspective? It is as if these aren't just guitars, but almost symbols _of_ guitars, existing in the mind. I suspect this painting speaks to memory, of musical notes and their ability to evoke emotions. Editor: The "symbols _of_ guitars," bit rings true, absolutely. With their strange geometric shapes they all feel more like diagrams rather than faithful depictions of guitars...so, what's up with the atomic star shapes dotting all the colorful planes, then? Are those, too, like some "memory" shapes of music-making? Curator: Yes, I love where you're going with that! They definitely evoke something beyond the guitars, maybe a jazzy energy, echoing an atomic age bursting with possibility. They’re visual metaphors, I reckon, connecting the unseen energy of music with that era’s enthusiasm about the unseen energy of the atom. He painted it not long after the explosion of nuclear physics after all. Editor: So, in essence, Dalí offers not a still life, but an abstracted expression of an era buzzing with art and atomic power? Thanks so much. I think my ear has been tuned up quite a bit with all of this. Curator: Absolutely. It always excites me to see how something on the surface can become infinitely richer if you have a keen mind to really listen, doesn't it?