Salvator Felipe Jacinto Dali was born in the town of Figueres May 11, 1984, place of his childhood but also of memory. He moved first to Paris, then to the United States and finally to Port Lligat, on the Costa Brava, always accompanied by his wife Gala.
In 1961 he decided to return for a visit to his beloved hometown, here his "antennae" mustaches - as he himself called them - began to vibrate at the sight of the architectural remains of the Municipal Theater, and without batting an eyelid, he decided he wanted to build here its museum.
First of all, I am an eminently theatrical painter. Then, the theater is right in front of the church where I was baptized, finally, in the foyer of that theater I exhibited my paintings for the first time.
After several negotiations with the municipality of Figueras, the Spanish government was also involved in order to grant the artist what he wanted.
The master donated a collection of his paintings to the municipality, while the municipality paid him one million pesetas which, with another thirty-three million from the state, were used to restore the theater and thus transform it into a museum. The drawings of the new building were made by Dali himself, all according to his extravagance.
On September 28, 1974, the project was thus ready to be inaugurated. Seated on a golden throne holding a walking stick that belonged to Sarah Bernhardt in his hand, the master told the guests present "I would like this museum to become the spiritual center of Europe". In fact, his intent was to see it as a training ground for the imagination - of which he was particularly gifted - a place to touch souls and stimulate the mind in a sort of profound irony of the intellect. Maybe?
His contradictions were part of his being, like the gray geodesic dome placed on the old pinkish building, a head on top of a wrong body. Let's not talk about the large ostrich eggs like battlements of a castle. No deformities, just a detail, like a "nail" in the buttonhole of a jacket.
And if we want to lose balance, just stop and look at the ceiling of the Noble room, entitled "Eu Palu del Vent“, a real representation of Dalì from whose abdomen come out overturned drawers, while Gala whirls in the sky. Both are ascending towards the tramontana wind (wind that blows across the Ampurdàn plain around Figueras) with an offering of coins. Everything is very clear in its meaning, Dalì pays off his debt to his place of origin, also giving it every fortune.
The museum didn't offer any kind of written guide, because according to Dali words are only there to confuse. After all, the ability to involve the viewer is automatic in just observing the complexity of the exhibited works, which in the end become simple custodians of a well-declared surrealism. In fact, Dalì seems to want to ask each visitor where the boundary between reality and illusion is: "Perfect optical illusions, mocking reality".
When the master was still alive, he loved to go to the museum every week, checking that everything was in the "wrong" place. One day he ordered that the radiators be removed and replaced with piles of coffee spoons… or not to charge the entrance fee only for the day of the Epiphany.
After his death and that of Gala, all their properties, including the Tower of Gorgot as well as countless works of art, are part of the Gala and Salvator Dali Foundation.
His theater – i.e. the museum – performs various unwritten comedies every day, where the protagonists – the works – change according to where they are observed from, sometimes so mocking as to mirror themselves in and recognize ourselves. But the most surprising thing is that with his "Work" he really managed to define the spirituality of Europe, complex, eccentric and sometimes exaggerated, to the point of being no longer understood, as happens today.
