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Salvador Dali was a genius (perhaps a little crazy, but this is generally characteristic of geniuses who are ahead of their time) - even those in whose heart his paintings do not find an answer agree.
After all, these paintings, even more than any other art, must be understood by the heart, the center of the soul, which hurts, pulls, knocks and beats. After all, even having understood with the brain that the artist had in mind this, he achieved this and generally protested against the Second World War and it’s impossible to fall in love with the paintings, for example, blacks. They need to be felt. Feeling the freedom beating in them - they are endless, despite the fact that they are limited by the narrow space of the canvas.
So "Melancholy" is full of desert, which extends from edge to edge. Mountains on the horizon do not limit it, on the contrary, as if helping to grow, to expand. Clouds curling into strange shapes expand the sky. Faceless cupid angels are hooligans, one of them plays the lyre. The table, with carved columns, like a bed, looks almost ridiculous in the desert, and violates all the laws of human perception. A man with a blank face looks into the distance bored and silently.
The whole picture responds in the soul - melancholy, the wind in the desert, the chime of the strings on the lute - but does not respond in the brain, because the brain does not feel it, for this there is a heart.
Only the heart will feel the all-consuming emptiness of the desert. Only the heart rushes to the mountains, to the exit from melancholy, to other places and other people. Only the heart can sympathize with a person with wavy hair and the eyes of a madman bending over a table.
Only the heart will respond to the sounds of the lute - "go to the mountains," they say. Or vice versa, "stay, listen again, dissolve in the wind." For each in their speech - his own, and in the void of the desert clues are hidden, the answers to all questions.
The wind howls. The lute rings. Melancholy.
Borovikovsky Portrait of Derzhavina