Christine Argillet spent her childhood and teenage years in the company of Salvador Dalí, the Spanish Surrealist whose artistic output reshaped modern culture. Unlike most admirers, she did not merely observe his work from afar but witnessed his creative process firsthand, engaging in debates over sketches and observing the man beyond the myth. This proximity came through her father, Pierre Argillet, who served as Dalí’s publisher and collaborator for over four decades, bridging their lives from the time Christine was five until she turned seventeen.
Dalí was not just a distant figure in her life but a daily presence. Her father frequently took her to meetings with him, and the artist often dropped by their home in Port Lligat, Spain without warning. These visits were anything but formal. Dalí arrived bursting with energy and ideas, transforming their living space into an impromptu studio. “Dali was so much fun [and full] of surprises. There was a friendship between the two and an immense respect for each other,” she comments.
Read Also: Pan Pacific Singapore marks 40 years with guest-focused anniversary experiences
Dalí’s Whirlwind of Projects and Eccentricity
Their relationship extended far beyond professional collaboration. Dalí’s personality—his eccentricity, playful nature, and insatiable curiosity—left an indelible mark. He darted between projects with relentless enthusiasm, exploring not only painting but film, jewelry design, and even collaborations with Walt Disney and Elvis Presley. “It was very difficult to catch him and keep him on one topic so you had to be very prompt,” she mentions.
Her father often chased after him to complete unfinished work. “Many times, [Dali] would be in a hurry and had not finished working on a project with my father and would need to leave, and my father would run behind him, saying, ‘I need two plates to finish the project!’” Argillet muses in recollection. “Or Dali would be doing an interview and working on the plates [at the same time], and my father would be pale, thinking, ‘What is he going to do?’”
Dalí’s creative approach matched his unpredictable nature. At a public event in the late 1960s, he appeared distracted, his eyes darting as he scribbled on a copper plate before declaring it complete and leaving abruptly. The next day, he demanded the plate back. When they unwrapped it, the sketch resembled a “wool ball.” Opening the paper [wrapping the drawing], her father said, ‘well, [the drawing] looks like a wool ball.’ Dalí looked at it and said, ‘that’s not what I drew the other night,’” Argillet shares.
Read Also: Shanghai Spas Offer Ancient, Modern Wellness Fusion Treatments
The artist took the plate and continued working on it, producing an etching of two women jumping into the waves. As for Dalí’s strange behavior at the public showcase, Argillet laughs and explains that it was the late-60s and he was working on the Hippies series with her father. He had decided to try LSD that night to calm his nerves. “He was a very shy man, which many people don’t know about,” she says. “He was on drugs that day. It was a fun story.”
Mao Portrait Gag and Eye-Strain End of Etchings
Dalí’s humor was as striking as his art. When he created a “portrait” of Mao Zedong, Mao’s suit dominated the plate, minus the head. “Dali said, ‘the man is so big that he didn’t fit on the plate,’” mentions Argillet. “He was joking.” Toward the end of their collaboration at around 1973, Dalí stopped etching on copper plates as it was damaging his eyes. “Working on the shiny plates was making him cry; he stopped at that very moment,” says Argillet.
Read Also: Goldheart boutique debuts new gold collection
Bruno Gallery Showcases Dalí’s Raw Etchings
The Argillet Collection, now displayed at the Bruno Gallery in Singapore until November 16, captures this collaborative period. Over 100 etchings, printed from Dalí’s copper plates, are featured, alongside tapestries the two created together. These works stand in contrast to his more famous paintings, such as The Persistence of Memory, revealing a spontaneous, unfiltered side of his process. Unlike his polished canvases, the etchings expose raw, immediate creativity, sometimes incomplete, often instinctive.
Argillet’s accounts bring Dalí down to earth. He was not merely a genius but an impulsive, playful figure who could produce extraordinary work even when distracted. “He had this capacity, this skill that was extraordinary, and this very expert way of working,” she reflects.
