The longest, cohesive and spectacular dreams are dreamed to a person immediately before awakening. Sleep can last a few seconds, but subjectively leave a feeling of a few hours full of events. The world of dreams is exactly the space where time is counted according to the Soft hours of Salvador Dali; and they, according to the master, always show the exact time.
Descended from the circus poster tigers fly forward. Claws are released, the jaws open, menacing fangs bared in a paroxysm of rage. One tiger emerges from the mouth of another. He, in turn, jumps out of the mouth of a huge fish, and she emerges from a giant grenade with a ripped skin. Two pomegranate seeds with drops of blood glow above the sleepy surface of the sea. To the viewer, this suite of images inevitably reminds a doll-matryoshka – or a kashchev death, hidden in caches enclosed in each other.
The space to the horizon line is filled with a serene still sea. This is the matter of sleep: the same unconscious, from which, as from intrauterine waters, images and plots are born. Far away, almost at the horizon, a rocky islet rises from the water, and rocks of sandstone turn yellow at the edge of the canvas, without which Dali could not imagine the seascape. These stones, quaintly rugged by waves and ruthless Catalan winds, inspired the artist to create dual images and deceptive illusions, when one image flows into another, just as cracks in a stone add up to new and new pictures.
In the background, straight on the water, an elephant on spider legs is pacing. He, like the famous sculpture from the Roman square of Minerva, – the elephant Bernini – carries on the back an obelisk-crystal. His paradoxically thin legs will make the waking spectator amazed, but everything is possible in a dream. Including and combine incompatible, and to challenge the laws of gravity. With gravity gravitated, the naked body of Gala, floating above the stone slab, also argues. Her head is thrown back, her hands are over her head, one leg is bent. She looks like an allegory of peaceful sleep, in harmony with the serene sea scenery. The more striking is the contrast between the static of the female body and the dynamics of violent aggressive images. Even more intensifies this dissonance rifle with an attached bayonet, which froze in millimeters from the skin of the sleeping Gal.
Next to it, tiny against the background of images generated by the subconscious, the fruit of a pomegranate is floating. He, unlike the giant grenade-from-sleep, is real. A bee is curling around him. Both a grenade and a bee fell into this sleepy kingdom not by chance. They served as a catalyst for all this feast of dreams. The buzzing of the bee spawned a chain of disturbing pictures in the head of a sleeping woman. A prick with the point of a bayonet became the logical completion of the plot of the dream, replacing the bee sting in this reality. A little further off the wall hung a pair of sea shells – mathematically perfect forms, which Dali admired so much. They look like a tiny, but inalienable stroke, completing the picture of the ideal dream. And all this blessed by the teachings of Freud, the triumph of the unconscious is overshadowed by the flawed moon, the illusory star of the world of dreams.
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