"Two Minds
on a Single Wavelength"
Timothy Phillips on Salvador
Dalí and Marcel Duchamp
An
interview by Thomas Girst
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Salvador
Dalí with Timothy Phillips (left),
early 1960's
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We first learned of Timothy
Phillips (b. 1929) when he wrote a letter to the editor of Canada's
National Post in response to Sarah Boxer's article "A Self-Made
Man. The Art World is Upset by Evidence that Marcel Duchamp Manufactured
the Readymades he Claimed to have Found" (15 March 1999, reprinted in
the Post with permission of The New York Times). The letter
was forwarded to us by one of the paper's editors. From this initial
writing, a correspondence with Phillips began and it soon became apparent
that he was highly interested in one of Duchamp's fascinations: mathematics.
We also became aware that he had worked as an assistant for Salvador
Dalí, executing "minor details of lesser pictures."
The assistantship
came about in 1949 when Phillips' mother had her portrait painted by
Dalí (Illustration
1) and Phillips went along, bringing
his copy of 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship for an autograph.
Perhaps intrigued by
the young man's looks and interest in mathematics, Dalí invited
Phillips to his house in Port Lligat,
Cadaqués, and Phillips started to spend his summers working with
Dalí
(who wrote later that an angel had sent Phillips across his path). In
the art world of Cadaqués
at that time,
the young Canadian met, among others, Man Ray and Marcel Duchamp.
An active painter, Phillips
maintains the Toronto-based Tappa Gallery as well as the Timothy Phillips
Art Foundation. Now deeply religious, he attends services twice a week.
In the correspondence that ensued after his letter to the editor, he
happily shared memories of his very different lifestyle of the 1950s
and 60s:
Emboldened by the example
of the renowned master [Dalí], I proceeded to act in ever stranger
ways. In the beginning Dalí said (in "Dalínese"):
"You is not enough crazy." When I parted company from him,
he declared: "You is too much crazy!" In the interval, my
apparent insanity had progressed more than his command of English.
Eventually, my wealthy step-father purchased for me and my newly married
- and disastrously so - wife, a mountaintop former monastery. There
I took mescalin and vast quantities of alcohol (not to mention sex!),
confirming to the letter Dalí's shrewd estimate of my then
mental state.
We had to meet him!
Click
here for video (QT 1.5MB)
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Timothy
Phillips, Toronto, June 1999
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Thomas Girst.
You seem to have had a pretty wild time while living in Cadaqués
during the 1950s
and 60s.
Timothy Phillips: That's unfortunately true.
T.G. But you
lived in a monastery.
T.P. First
of all, I started in a fisherman's hut which I rented and then I fell
in love with a local girl. She was the daughter of an English expatriate.
Staying in the monastery meant very primitive living but we stayed there
for a couple of summers. Then she ran off with Jonathan Guinness who
secretly turned out to have a second wife that he kept in the countryside.
Well, she went where the money was and I fell in one of my down periods.
That's when I became religious. I
was working for Dalí before I was married, doing mathematical
calculations. I also did very minor parts
of lesser pictures and he complimented my sense of tone. It is
very difficult to explain to anybody who doesn't paint what tone is.
Generally, tone is what you see in a painting when you take a black
and white photograph. If it's all pale and you can't distinguish things,
if it all depends on color it is not in tone. If it is in
tone, it'll be 50% mid-tone, 25% light tone and 25% dark. And it
will have a pattern of masses of tone. Apparently, tone
is becoming lost. It used to be taught in schools. So Dalí said
to me that I had the total sense of a Velazquez, a big exaggeration,
but I've tried to live up to it and in a lot of pictures I haven't.
T.G. Did you
know Puignau, the contractor and mayor? He was important to Duchamp.
T.P. Puignau!
Yes, I certainly know him. He is a great guy!
T.G. He arranged
the wooden door for Duchamp's Given to be shipped to New York.
He also got the bricks for Duchamp's last major work and helped him
find a summer home, later installing a big chimney designed by Duchamp.
T.P. How wonderful!
click
to enlarge
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Illustration
2.
© 1999 Succession Marcel Duchamp, ARS, NY/ADAGP, Paris Marcel
Duchamp, The Mayor of Cadaqués, 1968
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T.G. Duchamp
even did a portrait of him in the 60s.
A little drawing (figure 2 -
click to enlarge).
T.P. Oh, I
have to see it.
T.G. Was
he friends with Dalí
as well?
T.P. Oh yeah,
was he ever! He was a very intelligent man. No one could be friends
with Dalí without having either talent or intelligence or both.
T.G. It
is said that when Dalí
was with Duchamp, Dalí
wasn't the exhibitionist he used to be.
T.P. Dalí
was never an exhibitionist, that was for the public. Dalí was
the humblest man I've ever known in my life. Only interested in what
he could learn, what he could absorb. A remarkable man! Duchamp was
a very humble man too and so sharp and intelligent. He was a chess player,
he didn't advertise his moves. I don't think that Dalí appreciated
Duchamp until he began to deeply study mathematics and metaphysics.
First of all, Dalí had this concept of Freudian analysis but
then he outgrew it and became aware of not only geometrical format in
painting, but the dynamic of mathematics and geometry which underpinned
everything. So a little talk with Duchamp would show Dalí just
where the real truth of things laid and he could then abandon these
Freudian concepts and go to something far deeper, which he did. His
paintings became progressively more mathematical and dynamic.
T.G. He also
showed a big interest in DNA.
T.P. Yes,
he was a "scientist manqué" fascinated with contemporary science
and all its branches, particularly biology and physics.
T.G. As a
young man, Duchamp read up on mathematical treatises, especially at
the time he was working at the library Saint-Genevieve in Paris.
T.P. He did,
he saturated himself in that, and I also noticed that he knew Apollinaire
who was unbelievably intelligent.
T.G.
He even tried to outdo de Sade by writing a more pornographic book than
the old prisoner could have had imagined.
T.P.
I do not know one major creative mind that did not have a pornographic
streak, not one!
T.G. Can you
elaborate upon when you first met Duchamp? He and Man Ray had come up
to your monastery?
T.P. My wife
invited them. She had a remarkable ability to meet people and socialize
and she was incredibly pretty. So it was no difficulty for her to have
this famous pair invited. I knew that Duchamp had a fantastic grasp of
perspective and a razor sharp intellect, but I thought he was the supreme
joker of modern art.
T.G. When
did that change for you?
click
to enlarge
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Illustration
3.
Timothy Phillips,
Nude after Velazquez (Untitled),
late 1950's
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T.P. Well,
I spoke to him while I was working on a study of a nude and he complimented
me on the foreshortening (Illustration
3). He said
how difficult foreshortenings were and I knew this was a very serious
person. Just his general conversation showed a very high intelligence
and I became aware that he was no joker. He said to me: "My idea is
to destroy easel painting" and I thought "But this is what I am
doing, why do you want to destroy it?" I believe what he wanted
was to destroy the banality and the mechanicalness of what passes for
painting and to introduce the beauty of "grey matter," add
a bit of intelligence into painting.
T.G. I thought
the term "grey matter" did not come up with Duchamp until
later in his life. Did he mention "grey matter" to you in
Cadaqués?
T.P.
No, he never did because he wouldn't go into it very much. I didn't
even know he was
a master chess player at that time. I did not know nearly enough about
him or Man Ray. I just knew that these were famous men. I approved
of Duchamp making fun of the whole modern movement because I did not
like it.
Click
to enlarge
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Salvador
Dalí (center) with Gala and Timothy Phillips (left), early 1960's
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T.G. Do you
have any memory of how Man Ray and Duchamp were together?
T.P. Well
yeah, they were terrific. Man Ray, I think it was a joke, said to me,
"I intend to paint a picture of such a nature that everyone of the spectators
will drop dead," and I said to him: "Mr. Ray, have you paid up your
insurance premiums?"
T.G. You must
have also met Teeny, Duchamp's wife?
T.P. Yes,
she was lovely!
T.G. Teeny
and Gala [Dalí's wife] didn't get along...
click
to enlarge |
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Timothy
Phillips, Toronto, June 1999
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T.P. No, I
am afraid not, they wouldn't. Gala had a commercial streak. I am sure
that came
as a result of her childhood in Russia and her life as an ex-patriot
in Paris. She became, well, not only an entrepreneur but a total opportunist.
Regretfully, it spoiled the character of an otherwise wonderfully civilized
woman, that's too bad. And also of course, she was a nymphomaniac and
Dalí alone couldn't satisfy her sexually, so that boatmen or
young actors or anything else would do. Eventually, Dalí got
fed up and he slugged her in the Hotel Meurice. They broke up and that
was the end for Dalí because she did all the business.
T.G. How did
they spend their summers together?
T.P. Well,
he would paint from early morning until nightfall, then after supper
he'd turn on the lights and painted by artificial light. Occasionally,
he'd go out on a little excursion in a yellow fishing boat with Gala
and I would often come along. We'd go to those islands off Cap Creus.
T.G. Where
you can see those rock formations sometimes found in Dalí's paintings?
T.P. Yes,
wonderful rock formations!
T.G. And Gala
would read to him while he was painting?
T.P. Yes,
she would read to him the most pornographic works that she could find:
Marquis de Sade and also Rabelais.
T.G. Do you
know that someone once did the L.H.O.O.Q. with Gala for a surrealist
exhibition in
the 60s -- the "L.H.O.O.Q., Comme D'Habitude" (Illustration
4)?
click
to enlarge
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Illustration
4.
L.H.O.O.Q., Comme d'Habitude, 1961
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T.P. This
is a supreme piece of irony to put the moustache on Gala. Incidentally,
there was a lot of tension between Gala and Dalí. He knew that
she was a nympho and that she betrayed him sexually every time she could.
Dalí and Gala were a very unhappy union at the time, projecting
to the public something they weren't. But she had an amazing eye!
T.G. For his
art or for young men?
T.P. Both!
(laughs) Regarding Duchamp and Dalí, she didn't like Dalí
giving too much credit to anyone.
Her idea was that Dalí should be some kind of a demigod, a Renaissance
man who simply absorbed everything osmotically and gave it back in his
own way. The fact that he would then commune with Duchamp I think disturbed
her a little bit. The idea that anyone could influence Dalí was
alien to her.
T.G. So when
you met him was he still practicing his paranoic-critical method?
T.P. Paranoic-critical
method was with him from the time he discovered it until his death.
It was his basic method of creation. And it was really his way to liberate
the right hemisphere of the brain because what hinders the sane person
is the critique of the left hemisphere. It is critical and linear, but
if you can liberate the right side of the brain you can have these wonderful
insights, which are free of limiting logic. They have their own logics.
There are so many different logics -- irrational or non-rational and
hyper-rational logics. They're all in mathematics, so that is Dalí's
method of contacting the super-rational.
T.G. And delving
into the subconscious at the same time.
T.P. But
I think Duchamp showed him there was a mathematical basis for all this.
It clearly fascinated Dalí to see that Duchamp could handle these
things. He understood the whole field of advanced mathematics.
click
to enlarge
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Salvador
Dalí (lower center) and
Marcel Duchamp (upper left)
attending a bullfight held in Dalí's honor, August 1961
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T.G. Hence
their mutual respect.
T.P. Yes,
mutual respect. A lot of mutual admiration between two geniuses. They
were two minds on a single wavelength.
T.G. And in
one of Dalí's paintings, Dalí hands the crown to Duchamp,
turning him into a king.
T.P. Yes,
it is Salvador Dalí in the Act of Painting Gala in the Apotheosis
of the Dollar, in which One may also Perceive to the Left Marcel Duchamp
Disguised as Louis XIV, behind a Curtain in the Style of Vermeer, which
is but the Invisible Monument Face of the Hermes of Praxiteles (figure
5 - click
to enlarge) which he did three years
after I broke off contact in 1962. There are so many references in the
title alone. To begin with, you have the helix and its reflection.
T.G. In the
background you also find allusions to Duchamp's Nude Descending a
Staircase
of 1912.
Figure
5
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Salvador
Dalí, Salvador Dalí in the Act of Painting Gala in the Apotheosis
of the Dollar, in which One may also Perceive to the Left Marcel
Duchamp Disguised as Louis XIV, behind a Curtain in the Style
of Vermeer, which is but the Invisible Monument Face of the Hermes
of Praxiteles, 1965
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T.P. An incredibly
complex painting with the Velazquez door and the Vermeer curtain.
I believe that Dalí acknowledged
Duchamp as the major mind force in modern art. For me,
everything else is an effervescence
of superior talent, but without real significance. Besides Klee, Dalí
and Duchamp, I can't really think of many of the others as anything
except being exceptional talents. Klee was a man who I think understood
the insane, children and the symbolism of these minds which might in
certain ways be far superior to normal minds. There might in fact be
no such thing as insanity, because you can't define sanity; and Klee's
exploration of the insane I think went deeper than Dalí's. At
the time, I thought the value of Dalí was in his superb technique.
Now I think that his technique was cumbersome although he achieved miracles.
T.G. But Dalí
as a person must have been much more insane than Klee!
T.P. Klee
was Swiss! What do you expect of a Swiss?
click
to enlarge
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Timothy
Phillips and Thomas Girst
outside the Tappa Gallery,
Toronto, 1999
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T.G. Not too
much of what Dalí was, with his staring eyes...
T.P. That
was something he just put on. Dalí wasn't insane at all, one
of the sanest men I've ever met in my life. My god was he sane (laughs)!
The interview was conducted
at Timothy Phillips' Tappa Gallery in downtown Toronto, June
20, 1999. It is preserved in full on a digital videotape (filmed by
Friederike N. Gauss), © ASRL, 1999.
click
to enlarge
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Timothy
Phillips - Picture Gallery
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