Remembrance of Things Past

Prominently displayed in the gallery window were three rubber female breasts, mounted on velvet. Any knowledgeable Parisian recognized the signs immediately: the Surrealists were back. Up the 21 steps--which 1,500 curious Parisians climbed on the opening day--was Surrealism's first international show since 1938.

It has been 23 years since Poet Andre Breton rattled the saucers in Left Bank cafes with his "First Manifesto of Surrealism," a compound of Freudianism and calculated nonsense. In those days, Marcel Duchamp (who drew U.S. catcalls in 1913 with his Nude Descending the Staircase) got high critical acclaim when he filled a birdcage full of marble cubes, stuck in a thermometer, and entitled it Why Not Sneeze? Duchamp and Breton had worked together for months assembling the screwy props for last week's screwy show.

Visitors, on entering, found themselves dodging a whirling lighthouse powered by an old Victrola motor. They moved on to a "Hall of Superstition," containing a 14-foot hand made of chicken wire, plaster and canvas. In a hole in the wall, an owl, a bat and a raven played whist. In another room, artificial rain fell steadily and one dry corner was reserved for a billiard table where passersby could stop and play a bit.

Besides witches, whirligigs and a nine-foot Totem of Religion made out of three old railroad ties, the show included some 125 paintings, photographs and wall splotches by Surrealists and fellow travelers of 19 nations, including the top ones: Max Ernst, Hans Arp, Yves Tanguy, Joan Miro, Man Ray. Many admirers of early Surrealism (such as Communist Louis Aragon) felt that the daft old horse had lost its kick. Notably absent: Giorgio de Chirico, now a noisy detractor of the movement, and Salvador Dali, unfrocked by orthodox Surrealists for being too frivolous and too commercial.

Poet Breton, who says that Surrealism (like himself) is now disillusioned with the Communism it once embraced, had a new manifesto. Its theme: "Dreams and revolutions should enter a pact. To dream of a revolution is . . . to carry it out with double strength. . . . Surrealism is what will be." Observers discounted the big talk. Said one: "After the gas chambers, those heaps of bones and teeth and shoes and eyeglasses, what is there left for the poor Surrealists to shock us with?"

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