Word: daly
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...cleverer, far more alluring is the show opened last week by Surrealist Salvador Dali. A writhing plaster castle on the outside, it shrewdly combines surrealism with sex, inside, proves that there is plenty of Broadway method in Dali's madness...
...such subaqueous décor as a fireplace, typewriters with funguslike rubber keys, rubber telephones, a man made of rubber ping-pong bats, a mummified cow, a supine rubber woman painted to resemble the keyboard of a piano. Whatever this may mean as art, the exhibitors did not dilly-Dali over it. Into the tank they plunged living girls, nude to the waist and wearing little Gay Nineties girdles and fishnet stockings. Swimming, grimacing, doing the Suzy Q, milking the cow, playing the "piano," these Lady Godivers, seen at close range and a trifle water-magnified, should win more converts...
...Lunatic Narcissus" reveals a bare-breasted girl, her face caged with roses, her image multiplied by mirrors. > "The Beach of Gala Salvador" exhibits, against a Dali landscape embellished with exploding giraffes, many a famed surrealist emblem: the erotic white gramophone with a woman's high-heeled foot coming out of the horn; watches flattened out like flabby pancakes; "The Aphrodisiac Vampire," with the head of a tiger and a body studded with pony glasses; "The Ex quisite Corpse," its head and neck a curved umbrella handle, its chest a wooden chest, its thighs made of saucepans, its curved piano...
...small part of the show is owned by Surrealist Dali and Julien Levy, who runs a high-brow Manhattan art gallery; most of it by a group of oldsters with Broadway experience. Never publicity-shy, Dali, who recently broke one of Bonwit Teller's Fifth Avenue show windows because Bonwit Teller tampered with his display, is at present berating the Fair because it would not let him exhibit, outside his nuthouse, a woman with the head of a fish. Merrily upping the publicity, Dali's Dream of Venus has sent out a long press release headed: "Is Dali...
...first-rate importation form Mars is the Classical Club's production of the Birds of Aristophanes. A combination of the imagination of Jules Verne and Salvador Dali could not have concocted such a triumph of weird and otherworldly wildness as kicked up the dust in Sanders Theatre last night. Fantastic masks, brilliant costumes, lighting of all colors of the rainbow,--it's impossible to describe, but the nearest thing to it is Barnum and Bailey at their best, minus the elephants...