Sunday Dalí: The Tower, 1934. Oil on canvas, 66.5 x 53.5 cm. Kunsthaus Zürich.

This is the final installment a three part series of posts focusing on Dalí’s surrealist landscapes. If you missed the other two, check out The Sign of Anguish and The Sense of Speed.

Dalí’s landscapes were often compared to those by Tanguy (or vice versa). Works by the two were actually reproduced on facing pages in the Surrealist publication Minotaure, No. 5, 1934.¹ Tanguy usually blurs the lines between the horizon and sky, while Dalí maintains the division using landscapes from his childhood in Spain. Both artists use the iconic low-level light, which casts long, eerie shadows. Dalí trends towards less abstract forms that Tanguy, who abstracts forms.

The Tower contains clear references to Dalí’s anecdote about when he tricked a girl — his babysitter — to climb a ladder in front of his window so that he may fondle her breasts with his crutch as part of his masturbatory experience. This is conveyed by the globular shape of the clouds and the ghostly woman in white.