An ancient city, reminiscent of Venice, illuminated by the rays of the dawn sun. The pier is paved with stone slabs. High buildings and towers are bathed in golden morning light. Antique portico. Towers. Boats, sailboats. A few passers-by. All this serves as a decoration for the grand theatrical performance.
Far on the horizon, dividing in two the bluish-purple water and the sky, wedged between them by a tangible stream of gold, the sun rises. And further on, beyond the solar disk, from the blue and gold, like Aphrodite from the foam, Gala is born.
A colossal female figure towers above the city and the sea, the light emphasizes and depicts the sculptural relief of her body. Despite its size, it seems light, weightless, floating in the air. Her feet are hidden behind the solar disk, her head is hidden behind a thick cloud, a form reminiscent of Napoleon’s cocked hat. But it seems that someone is going to remove this annoying hindrance from the sky. The man’s hand holds a little cloud, pulls it by the edge, and it is thinned out like a curl under the fingers of a spinner.
It becomes visible its texture: it is indeed a thick wool, saturated with gold of dawn, the legendary golden fleece. Dali tries on the role of the new Jason, but his intentions are not so self-interested. He just wants to show the viewer a beautiful Gala, the embodiment of the morning dawn, in all its splendor.
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