Spain

[King Bob]

That's kind of funny since the only art you can see in the galleries down there is really bad naturalistic/impressionist work. There is absolutely nothing surreal or abstract or avant-garde anywhere. I guess the tourists won't buy that stuff. Have to see if they'll pay to see it. Sounds good though - I think his work on paper is the best stuff.

[Drunk Monk]

Missed opening day.  For some reason, I thought this wasn't going to open until next year.  I gotta go soon, but the ol' CA summer has me tightly booked through mid August.

As an afterthought of Spain - I didn't get many souvenirs.  I wish I had had more time in Toledo or the Dalinian Triangle to really shop for something nice.  All I got was this teeny tiny flask with a Spain logo on it.  It would hold maybe half a shot.  I got it at the airport when I was doing my final change dump.

[Drunk Monk]

Tara and I made it to Dali 17 in Monterey today. We were supposed to have lunch with Stacy's mom but she had issues with her new medication and had to cancel when we got to Monterey (she has recently been diagnosed with Parkinson's and did not look well). So it was a decidedly surreal start. Tara & I trudged forward and had a nice pricey lunch on the touristy wharf which we both thought was very disneyesque.

---

Dali 17 claims to be the biggest collection of Dali art in the states, but it is far inferior to the Fort Lauderdale museum and both pale in comparison to each museum in Spain. Dali 17 is almost all lithos. The presention is nice - grouped well, mostly his book illustrations: Biblia Sacra, Marquis de Sade, Divine comedy, Don Quichotte. There's his hilarious spins on the masters where he takes a copy of Picasso, Meninas, and even his own work, frames a reprint, adds a few doodles and signs them. Then there's a funny spin on Goya where he takes dozens of Goya's illustrations and adds his own touches, and then signs them. There's a black light room, which is a little silly and his Pantagruel which has warning shows outside for explicit content, his failed 12 apostles renamed for King Arthur's court, and some of his Tarot. Most we saw before in Barcelona.

The most interesting wall is Songs of Maldoror - early illustrations for a book - fine detailed etchings expressing some primordial Dali, including a very early camabert melted clock that still looks like the cheese before the melted clock icon really takes shape (or loses shape). For me, the was worth the $20 entrance fee. 

It's a modest collection and needs more history of Dali's stay in Monterey. The photos of his surreal parties, Dali with Vanderbilt, Dali decorating, Bob Hope and James Cagney looking at 3 frogs served to them for dinner, that stuff is great and new to me. I hope Dali 17 can thrive and grow, but it really needs to get more surreal.

[Drunk Monk]

Update: Analysts Dug Up Dalí's Body and Made a Major Discovery
It was called "a very emotional moment"

TEXT BY 
KATHERINE MCGRATH
Posted July 20, 2017
[/url]

Artist Salvador Dali, lifting his cane, with a woman in New York. Courtesy of Getty Images.

Bettmann

UPDATE: Last night's exhumation was indeed a success, and forensic analysts were able to collect remnants of Dalí's teeth, nails, hair, and two large bones for testing, confirmed Lluís Peñuelas, the secretary general of the Salvador Dalí Foundation. While the results of the paternity test will not be ready for a couple weeks, the forensic analysts still made an astonishing discovery last night: Dalí's signature mustache was still intact. "His face was covered with a silk handkerchief. As I removed the handkerchief, I saw with great joy how his mustache remained intact, pointing to 10 past 10, just as he wanted," exclaimed Narcis Bardalet, who embalmed Dalí's body 28 years ago, and was present for the exhumation. “Salvador Dalí is forever," he said. When speaking to the press, Peñuelas called news of the mustache "a very emotional moment."
It's a case that's stranger than fiction: Celebrated surrealist Salvador Dalí's body is set to be exhumed from its crypt in Spain this evening. The reason? A 61-year-old fortune teller named Pilar Abel claims to be the Spanish artist's only child, and, after a DNA test using hair and skin particles from Dalí's death mask proved inconclusive a few years back, a judge has recently granted her permission to have his body exhumed to swab DNA from his bones and teeth.

Ms. Abel asserts that her mother had an affair with the artist near his home a year before her birth, and her grandmother once told her "I love you a lot, but I know that you're not the daughter of my son. What's more, I know who your father is—he is Salvador Dalí." Abel has been after a conclusive paternity test for a decade, bringing a case against the Spanish state, to whom Dalí bequeathed his fortune. Should the genetic test prove her lineage, Abel will be legally entitled to a quarter of his estate and to assume his legendary last name.
The foundation that manages the Dalí Theatre and Museum in Figueres, where the artist chose to rest eternally, is infuriated by the judge's order to exhume his body, but is complying—begrudgingly. "We oppose this decision," said Imma Parada, spokeswoman for the Dalí Museums and Foundation. "We appealed but haven’t received an answer yet."
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Pilar Abel, courtesy of Getty Images

LLUIS GENE

Dalí died in 1989, making his remains a bit difficult to work with. "There is always the possibility that you might not get a lot of DNA," said Victoria Moore, the commercial DNA services manager for LGC, the United Kingdom's leading life sciences testing and forensics company. "but I would expect them to get something—it's not yet 30 years old, so it's not too bad."
And so, at 8 P.M. local time, once the last of the day's visitors have departed, museum staff will ceremoniously remove the 1.5-ton stone slab guarding the artist's eternal resting place to take genetic samples from his corpse. To protect his privacy, staff will erect awnings to block the exhumation from view of prying drone eyes, as access to the tomb Dalí designed for himself is underneath a glass dome. Experts expect the process to take almost the entire length of the night.
"I think that Dalí would greatly enjoy being exhumed; it's a totally surrealist event," said Ian Gibson, author of The Shameful Life of Salvador Dalí. "He'd be thrilled, I'm quite sure, by the whole business."

[Greg]

Still not the weirdest story of the day.

[Drunk Monk]

Been thinking about La Ramblas. We hit up a cafe right near where the terrorist attack ended. 

Meanwhile, there's this:

This Man Bought 60,000 Ceramic Tiles from Dalí. Now He’s Finally Ready to Sell Them
ARTSY EDITORIAL
BY CASEY LESSER
AUG 18TH, 2017 1:27 PM

• [img=375x0]https://d7hftxdivxxvm.cloudfront.net/?resize_to=width&src=https%3A%2F%2Fartsy-media-uploads.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fq_u49RnuLNLNxYdmfTVoRA%252FScan%2B1%2Bcopy.jpg&width=1100&quality=95[/img]
  Photo of Salvador Dalí and Peter Ackermann. Courtesy of Peter Ackermann.
  
  

In 1976, German lawyer Peter Ackermann made a momentous purchase: He bought 60,000 ceramic tiles designed by Salvador Dalí. And he didn’t have a clue what to do with them.
The events that led to the purchase trace back to years earlier, when one of Ackermann’s clients was struggling financially and couldn’t afford to pay his legal fees. In lieu of payment, he offered to arrange a meeting between the lawyer and the Spanish artist Dalí, with whom the client had a connection through his wife, an old friend of Gala Dalí, the Surrealist’s wife. Ackermann took him up on the offer.
Months later, while on business in Paris, where Dalí lived, Ackermann met with the client’s wife, and together they went to Restaurant Lasserre, one of Gala’s favorite spots. They had a waiter deliver their business cards to the table where the Dalís were dining.
“They waived me to their table and we had some nice conversation,” Ackermann recalls. “Fortunately, I spoke French (you don’t speak English or German to Salvador Dalí), and they invited me for tea the next day in their apartment at Le Hotel Meurice.”
A photograph picturing Ackermann kneeling beside Dalí immortalizes that meeting. (“That’s what you should do when you’re in the presence of the god of the Surrealists,” says Ackermann.) In the image, Dalí sits in a large armchair wearing a tiger-striped robe and a stoic expression. They exchanged pleasantries and discussed art and work, Ackermann recalls. Before departing, the lawyer agreed to work with the Dalís’ secretary on some of the artist’s financial deals.

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  Salvador Dalí, L'étoile de Mer, 1954. Courtesy of Peter Ackermann.
  
  
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  Salvador Dalí, Le Baiser de Feu, 1954. Courtesy of Peter Ackermann.
  
  

A couple of years later, Dalí contacted the lawyer, in need of a buyer for a collection of tiles he had produced in Spain two decades before. From the original run of 100,000 tiles, 60,000 remained. Ackermann bought them all.
“Look at the man,” Ackermann explains, remarking on his prized photo. “Look at me 40 years ago, sitting right next to the big master. Whatever he sells to you, when you can afford it, you buy it. You don’t think twice. It’s like being offered a piece of cake by the inventor of sachertorte. You don’t turn it down, even if you’re not into cakes.”
The tiles were produced in Onda, Spain, in 1954, at the El Siglo tile factory. (Today, the company is known as ADEX). It’s fabled that a minister of culture from within Francisco Franco’s government originally commissioned them for the interior of a swimming pool. 
The 20-centimeter-wide tiles come in sets of six and are titled “La Suite Catalane,” referring to the region of Spain from which Dalí hails. Based on paintings, the tiles feature loose, brushy motifs, like lips, birds, and a sun, in a palette of rich primary colors and pastels. The standout tile, titled L’étoile de Mer, is most typical of Dalí’s style; it portrays a four-legged red starfish, splayed across sandy terrain.

• [img=375x0]https://d7hftxdivxxvm.cloudfront.net/?resize_to=width&src=https%3A%2F%2Fartsy-media-uploads.s3.amazonaws.com%2FwNXnvEWaeRiM1-ypQRM2Jg%252FIMG_3071.jpg&width=1100&quality=95[/img]
  Salvador Dalí, Les Fléchettes, 1954. Courtesy of Peter Ackermann.
  
  
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  Salvador Dalí, Le Soleil Végéta, 1954. Courtesy of Peter Ackermann.
  
  

Ackermann has kept the entire cache for some four decades, though work and family kept him from doing anything with them. Over the years, the price of storing and transporting them has added up to a considerable cost. The tiles weigh some 44 tons and were originally kept in Zürich, where Dalí had them stored; then Ackermann moved them to Berlin. Ackermann estimates he’s spent a “serious seven-figure” sum on the tiles over the years. He has never tried to sell them—until now.
“When you have a beautiful old-timer, a Studebaker-Packard in your garage, you can probably sell it to some old car fan, but if you have 60,000 of them you have a problem,” Ackermann quips.
Now, as he approaches 80, he is actively looking for a buyer, with the intention of donating the proceeds to his foundation, Kreuzberger Kinderstiftung, which provides education for underprivileged children. The other 40,000 tiles from the original run have sold in private sales and auctions over the years, and according to Ackermann’s research, they have fetched as much as $2,300 for a set of six, and over €500 for just one.
Due to the tiles’ sheer quantity, Ackerman believes it’s unlikely he will attract a single buyer; laid out side-by-side, the tiles are said to cover a third of a football field. “I don’t think there is another weirdo like myself who would want to own 60,000 of these,” he says with a laugh.
He’s adamant, though, that they should not be used for a pool. “Each one of these beautiful pieces is an eye-catcher,” he notes. “They are very nice to be displayed over a large surface—not inside a swimming pool.”

—Casey Lesser 
Cover image: Portrait of Salvador Dalí courtesy of Henryk Seeger.






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[Drunk Monk]

Salvador Dalí’s ‘daughter’ unrelated to him, DNA tests show
Fortune teller Pilar Abel loses 10-year campaign to prove she is Spanish surrealist’s only child and heir




[/url]


Sam Jones in Madrid
 

@swajones
[url=https://twitter.com/swajones]
Wednesday 6 September 2017 13.24 EDTFirst published on Wednesday 6 September 2017 12.27 EDT
DNA evidence taken from the recently exhumed body of Salvador Dalí has shown that he is not the father of a woman who had claimed to be the only child and heir of the eccentric surrealist.
Pilar Abel, a 61-year-old tarot card reader and fortune teller from Girona, has spent the past 10 years trying to prove that she is the fruit of a liaison between her mother and Dalí in 1955.
In June, a court in Madrid ordered the artist’s body to be exhumed after previous attempts to determine paternity had failed. A month later, experts entered the crypt beneath the museum Dalí designed for himself in his home town of Figueres, Catalonia, to take DNA samples from his hair, nails and bones.
However, on Wednesday, the Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation, which controls the artist’s lucrative estate – and which had opposed the exhumation – said analysis of the remains had shown that he was not related to Abel.


The foundation said a report submitted to the court by the National Institute of Toxicology and Forensic Sciences had established that Dalí was not her biological father.
“This conclusion comes as no surprise to the foundation, since at no time has there been any evidence of the veracity of an alleged paternity,” it said in a statement. “The foundation is pleased that this report puts an end to an absurd and artificial controversy, and that the figure of Salvador Dalí remains definitively excluded from totally groundless claims.”
It said the DNA samples would be returned shortly, adding: “The Dalí Foundation is also pleased to be able to focus again on the management of its extraordinary artistic legacy and in the promotion of the work and figure of Salvador Dalí.”
Abel told the Spanish newspaper El País that neither she nor her lawyers had yet received the results of the tests. “Until I’ve got official word, they can say what they like,” she said. “I’m not hiding away and no matter what the result is, positive, negative or invalid, I’ll give a press conference to all the media to explain the result.”


She added: “If it comes out negative, I’ll still be laPilar.”
Abel had claimed that the resemblance between her and the artist was so marked that “the only thing I’m missing is a moustache”, adding that she had first learned of her supposed parentage from the woman she thought was her paternal grandmother.
Abel claims she told her: “I know you aren’t my son’s daughter and that you are the daughter of a great painter, but I love you all the same.” She also noted that her granddaughter was “odd, just like your father”.
Ten years ago, Abel was granted permission to try to extract DNA from skin, hair and hair traces found clinging to Dalí’s death mask. The results proved inconclusive.
A second attempt to retrieve samples followed later that year using material supplied by the artist’s friend and biographer Robert Descharnes.
Although Abel has claimed she never received the results of the second test, Descharnes’ son Nicholas told the Spanish news agency Efe in 2008 that he had learned from the doctor who conducted the tests that they were negative.


Had the DNA evidence supported her claim, Abel would have been heir to a quarter of Dalí’s fortune, which he bequeathed to the Spanish state and the foundation that bears his name and that of his wife and muse, Gala.
The latest twist in the extraordinary saga in the life and death of the surrealist had made headlines around the world – as had the fact that Dalí’s trademark moustache had survived the Grim Reaper’s scything.
Narcís Bardalet, the embalmer who prepared Dalí’s body after his death in 1989 and helped with the exhumation, said he had been thrilled and touched to see the surrealist’s best-known feature once again.
“His moustache is still intact, [like clock hands at] 10 past 10, just as he liked it. It’s a miracle,” he told the Catalan radio station RAC1.
“His face was covered with a silk handkerchief – a magnificent handkerchief … When it was removed, I was delighted to see his moustache was intact … I was quite moved. You could also see his hair.”

[cranefly]

If the "Dali-daughter wannabe" continues to protest after the test results are officially released, someone should clobber her over the head with "Galacidalacidesoxiribunucleicacid" hard enough to give her stilt-legs and a rash of ants.

[Drunk Monk]

Now 99% of the swords of Toledo are wallhangers, the kind of faux crap sold everywhere, in cigar shops and head shops and curio stores.   Most of it is Marto forge, which is crap. But there are a few swordmakers that maintain Toledo's grand tradition that dates back to 500 BCE.  Muella forge is known for their huge knives of pattern-welded steel.  Then there's Mariano Zamorano, Toledo's certified living treasure.  We found his shop, but it was closed.  I never made an appointment like it said to do on his website, so we headed off to find lunch (found this crazy Euro place with nomalicious salad, salmon and pizza).  When we swung back, Zamorano's was open!  Master Zamorano must have recognized a kindred spirit, despite my crummy Spanish, as he personally took me on a tour of his shopand let me shoot pix where photography was forbidden.  He is the 4th generation of swordmakers in his family and the shop has stood in that location for over a century and a half.  And it looks just like the Armoury used to - piles of dusty blades and sword parts on cluttered workbenches, one huge dirty grinder room, a wall of magnificent blades displayed somewhat haphazardly.  I was honored to meet Zamorano and I wish my Spanish was stronger so we could have really talked.  Toledo gift stores are filled with treasures, not just swords, but signature Damascened metal work, particularly jewelry and small boxes, gorgeous stuff in their detail.  We all wished we had bought souvenirs there (later both Stacy and Tara got Toledo jewelry which was available all over Spain).  The best part was many of these gift stores had salas de armas - rooms dedicated to swords.  Sadly, they never permitted photography.  I was in this one that was a basement hall that was easily 40 feet long, with walls packed full of sword racks - hundreds if not over a thousand blades.  I would have loved to take a selfie in there.  90% was crap, but I could sniff out that top shelf 10% quickly.  Unfortunately I spent my time unwisely and didn't manage to get to the military museum until after it closed (although I'm told it's mostly modern stuff in there - I'm consoling myself with that thought, although surely there must be examples of Toledo swords there too). 

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World news

Toledo’s last swordmakers refuse to give up on their ancient craft
Famed since Roman times, the Spanish city’s artisans are all but extinct. But a reprieve is at hand from the TV and film industry
04:00 UTC Tuesday, 24 August 2021
Its sturdy presence has threaded through more than 2,000 years of history, fuelled by fans that were said to have ranged from the Carthaginian general Hannibal to Roman legions.
These days, however, the longstanding tradition of swordmaking in the Spanish city of Toledo has dwindled to just two artisan swordmakers – the last living link to a tradition that stretches back millennia.
“Swordmaking is deeply connected to the city,” said Antonio Arellano of Artesania Arellanos. “If we were to lose it, it would be a tremendous loss for the city.”
As the reputation of Toledo’s swords swelled centuries ago, so did the fortunes of the city. The industry transformed the city’s narrow, winding streets, dotting them with hundreds of blacksmiths who turned Toledo into one of the world’s pre-eminent centres for swordmaking.
Coming from a long line of ironworkers, Arellano began crafting swords 30 years ago. The tradition had already been through several overhauls as swords were eschewed for munitions. No longer were clients made up of nobles and swordsmen looking for the best blade money could buy; instead, the market centred on tourists eager to take home a piece of famed Toledo steel.
Even so, the sword’s place in history was enough to secure the continuity of the craft. “When I started, Toledo was a hotbed for swordmaking – all of the historical centre and the periphery were full of workshops,” said Arellano, who at 69 is the last master swordsmith in Toledo.
In recent years, however, the number of local swordmakers has begun to decline as they found themselves in competition with mass-produced swords, the bulk of them made thousands of miles away in Asian countries. Arellano’s handmade swords, which can take up to six weeks to create, were largely spared.
What was left of the sector was slashed by the pandemic. “It was a big blow,” said Arellano. As global travel came to a halt, the crowds of tourists that had long thronged through the city’s steep streets disappeared. “I’ve lived through lots of tough moments and we’ve always come through, but this feels more serious.”
The alarm bells began to sound earlier this year in Toledo after Mariano Zamorano, the city’s other master swordsmith, announced his retirement at the age of 70, after the owner of the building where his workshop was located decided to sell the property.
Zamorano’s family stepped in, taking over the storied family business with the aim of setting up a new workshop in the city in the autumn. “The process continues,” said Santiago Encinas of Espadas Mariano Zamorano.
The artisanal methods of swordmaking are time-consuming and costly; steel is heated in an open flame before being stretched, shaped then hammered and polished. On average it takes 15 to 20 hours to complete a sword in this way, costing an average of €400 to €500, said Encinas.
He brushed off reports of the tradition’s demise. “It’s true that it is a product that doesn’t have as much demand and, as there is less demand, it’s only logical that there isn’t space for everyone,” he said. “We’re the ones that are here now, but we’re not going to be the last ones.”
His confidence was echoed by Arellano, whose son is planning to take over the business when he retires. In his case reprieve has come from an unexpected source; the revived interest in history has prompted a cascade of orders from TV series and theatre productions seeking to create historically accurate sets.
Most recently, Arellano signed a deal with a theme park that depicts historical events, where he will forge and craft swords in front of a live audience.
The interest hints at what will ultimately keep the tradition of Toledo’s swordmaking alive, said Encinas. “It’s a symbol, it will always be a symbol. It is a tool of history that people find very attractive.”