When Dalí wrote to his best enemy, Picasso
Dalí often wrote to Picasso, seeking closeness through shared memories. This postcard, with playful drawings and a cryptic Catalan phrase, is a vivid example, blending nostalgia, obsession, and Dalí’s surreal style in a one-sided dialogue with his unresponsive idol.
Pel juliol. Ni Dona ni Cargol.
The strange phrase jumps out as soon as we turn over the card: a black-and-white photograph of the bay of Port-Lligat, topped with playful little drawings: a guitar, birds, two snails kissing. Salvador Dalí writes to Pablo Picasso, not to speak of art or war, but to invite him to a summer rendez-vous, in cryptic Catalan steeped in memories.
Since their first meeting in Paris in 1926, Dalí never stopped writing to Picasso, sending signs, artistic winks, calls to memory. In return, Picasso remained silent, likely out of a mix of artistic rivalry, personal distance, and political disapproval.
Yet Dalí persisted, convinced that his messages - and especially this Catalan phrase, with its air of a secret password ("In July, neither woman nor snail") - would awaken in Picasso the memory of a summer in 1910 in Cadaqués, a theatrical scene on a balcony, a shared past.
This missive is a testament to a tender obsession: Dalí’s for his “best enemy.” A one-sided affection, nourished by myth, Catalan sunshine, and an irrepressible need for admiration. A dialogue in which only one speaks, but where the other’s silence becomes, in its own way, a response.
This illustrated postcard was contributed by Julien Paganetti, a French expert in historical autographs and manuscripts based in Lyon, France. He is considered a leading authority in his field, both nationally and internationally. He has discovered and brought to light prestigious historical documents, and his clientele includes renowned collectors, institutions, and even former French presidents. Julien is truly passionate about his work and always eager to engage with fellow enthusiasts, particularly during international exhibitions.
