Salvador Dalì (2024) Drawing by Alessandro Bruno
Key Points
Dalí appeared at the first London International Surrealist Exhibition in full scuba gear.
His plan? To visually demonstrate a “dive” into the unconscious.
The reality? He nearly passed out and had to be rescued—mid-speech—with a billiard cue.
The exhibition stunned London’s art scene and drew 30,000 visitors.
It helped spark modern art institutions in the UK and laid the groundwork for the ICA.
Collectors take note: this wasn't just eccentricity—it was manifesto by performance.
🪄 A Helmet, a Cue, and a Nearly Fatal Metaphor
What do you wear to lecture on the deepest corners of the human mind? If you're Salvador Dalí: a full metal diving suit, two leashed dogs, a billiard cue, and a surrealist smirk.
The year was 1936. The venue: London’s New Burlington Galleries. Dalí, ever the showman (and possibly part-time stuntman), arrived to give a speech on “authentic, paranoid phantoms.” But something unexpected happened:
He couldn’t breathe.
As the audience laughed—assuming this was just another layer of surrealist theatre—Dalí silently suffocated inside the airtight helmet. Eventually, someone unscrewed it just in time. The Spaniard gasped for air and declared, “I wanted to show I was diving into the subconscious.”
Collectors, take note: this wasn’t performance art. This was high-risk concept delivery.
Salvador Dalí (2024) Painting by Tomoya Nakano
British Surrealism: Kippers, Green Pipes, and Boiled String
Dalí’s aquatic mishap wasn’t even the strangest part of the 1936 International Surrealist Exhibition. That honor may go to poet Dylan Thomas, who offered guests teacups filled with boiled string. Or to Sheila Legge, dressed in satin and roses, holding an artificial leg. Or to André Breton, who gave a speech entirely in green—including his pipe and, naturally, his wife’s hair.
Thirty thousand people came. The British press was hypnotized. And though surrealism had already made waves in Paris and Berlin, it now had a London chapter—chaotic, irreverent, and entirely unforgettable.
For modern institutions (and collectors building surrealist portfolios), this moment is a cornerstone. It marked surrealism’s formal landing in the UK, and it did so with the elegance of a fever dream.
Surrealism Goes Public—and Upside Down
The exhibition, curated by Roland Penrose and poet David Gascoyne, featured works from giants like Magritte, Miró, Ernst, Duchamp, and Picasso. There were customs seizures, rehangs at the eleventh hour, and a fish nailed to a Miró that had to be removed because it smelled too strong.
Dalí’s own slides were presented upside down.
And yet the effect was electric. This wasn’t just a show—it was a surrealist invasion. And for a generation of British artists, it was transformative. For a public raised on tea and Turner, it was like discovering their wallpaper could melt.
Salvador Dalí (2018) Painting by Denis Kujundzic
From Galleries to Institutions: The Aftershock
The surrealist shockwave led to more than headlines. Penrose and art critic Herbert Read would go on to found the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA). Peggy Guggenheim tried to back a modern art museum in London (with too much control, per usual), and instead opened Guggenheim Jeune.
Gabrielle Keiller, whose collection now plays a major role in Surreal Encounters in Edinburgh, was one of many collectors inspired by this anarchic moment. What started with upside-down slides and airless helmets ended in long-term cultural investment.
If you're a collector, it’s worth remembering: surrealism’s entrance into Britain came not with polite captions—but with chaos, laughter, and almost losing Dalí to a metaphor.
Want to Recreate the Look? Here's the Dalí Starter Pack:
One heavy metal diving suit.
A lecture on the unconscious.
A billiard cue. Optional: two dogs.
Slides (presented upside down, naturally).
A friend on standby to unscrew your helmet, just in case.
The unshakable belief that art should make people uncomfortable.
Discover artworks inspired by Dalì
FAQ
Did Dalí really give a lecture in a diving suit?
Yes. And he almost died doing it.
Why?
To symbolize a “deep dive” into the human subconscious. It was equal parts absurd and brilliant—pure Dalí.
Was the audience horrified?
Nope. They thought it was performance. They applauded his suffocation. Very on-brand for surrealism.
What did the exhibition achieve?
It changed everything. It disrupted the British art scene, influenced generations, and helped launch major cultural institutions.
Is this relevant to collectors today?
Absolutely. Understanding surrealism’s theatrical, confrontational entrance into the UK is key to valuing its legacy—not just in works on canvas, but in objects, performance, and ephemera.
Selena Mattei