Salvador Dali and Dave Brubeck were invited to Rose Hill in April of 1965. AP FIle Photo
By Joe Vitale
Dave Brubeck and Salvador Dalí — two artists who have cemented themselves as icons in their fields, jazz and surrealism respectively — are hardly remembered for their visits to American college campuses.
But both, in a span of a few days, did just that, visiting Fordham’s Rose Hill in April of 1965.
Although linked in time and space, their appearances were quite distinct in nature. At the time, Brubeck was already a well-known jazz composer and pianist credited as being a formidable figure in the advent of cool jazz. He was also one of the first to explore the campus scene, with recordings such as “Jazz at Oberlin” (1954), “Jazz at the College of the Pacific” (1953) and “Jazz Goes to College” (1954.)
In April 1965, a group of sophomores in the college organized a Mission Concert and proposed that Brubeck’s quartet perform, with Dick Gregory as the ensemble’s opening act.
The group was denied permission to host Gregory, a comedian and civil rights activist. In a front page article in this newspaper, a student named Robert White wrote of Gregory: “He sometimes combines civil rights discussion with his humor and often gives the rights struggle a humorous touch while keeping within a serious framework.”
The article cited a high fee and concerns about his frequent arrests “resulting from his participation in demonstrations” as the administration’s grounds for denial. Gregory, in fact, had participated in the march from Selma to Montgomery alongside other national figures, such as James Baldwin, but there are no records of an arrest.
This 1956 file photo shows Dave Brubeck, American composer, pianist and jazz musician. He played at Rose Hill with his quarter that same year. (AP Photo/File)
The students settled for Jackie Vernon, who cost half of Gregory’s asking price of $1,500. Vernon, at the time, had already maRede appearances on the Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan shows, but a later report illustrated this newspaper’s disdain of Vernon. A student reporter, in a review of the event, described Vernon as “the pudgy monument to self-proclaimed blandness.”
The road to securing financing for the event, however, was a bumpy one.
Brubeck’s appearance was nearly canceled due to low of ticket sales. With just days to go until the performance, only 300 tickets were sold (at $2.50 each) while at least 1,500 needed to be sold in order for the organizer of the concert — Robert Fane, a sophomore — to break even. Luckily, the show went on, with Fordham students turning out in high numbers. Brubeck was given a “rousing reception,” and went on to a play a 15-minute encore.
It was within two days that Salvador Dalí also made an appearance at Fordham’s campus center.
The lecture, titled “The Station of Perpignan” was presented by Fordham’s fine arts program, according to this newspaper.
At the time, Dalí already had exhibitions at the MoMA, and the Julian Levy Gallery and had written his autobiography, The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí.
In a report about the event, Margaret Reynolds wrote that nearly 1,000 people “crammed into the ballroom and spilled over into the lounge area.”
Arriving 30 minutes late, Reynolds wrote that Dalí arrived “dressed in his ‘official uniform’ and was greeted by a standing ovation.”
According to Reyonds, he was wearing “a deep blue one piece suit decorated with silver and gold sunbursts and present moons, had pantaloon-like legs and puffed sleeves.”
“It was complemented by Dalí’s black wig and overemphasized mustache, which curled up toward his nose,” Reynolds wrote.
During his lecture, illustrated with 20 slides, Dalí spoke with “flamboyant emphasis” and combined several languages, including French, English and Latin, according to Reynolds.
Dalí, among several topics, spoke of his contemporaries. Modern painters, he declared, “believed in nothing and so these painters paint nothing.”
Referring to himself as “Dalí,” he spoke of Picasso, saying the difference between them is “that Picasso creates negative ugly sin…and Dalí is every day becoming more and more archangelic.”
He also spoke of thinkers of the past, such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau, on whom he blamed the invention of democracy.
At one point during his lecture, Dalí’s projector began to malfunction. He responded by pounding his cane (the signal for the slides to change) on the ground while shouting “You resist, you resist!” when the slide still did not change.
The crowd, Reynolds wrote, burst into applause.
Dalí, while fielding questions from the audience, explained his use of melted watches and clocks.
After insisting that the watches were melting and had “the delicacy of Camembert cheese,” he added that the body of Jesus Christ is “more close to the delicacy of Camembert cheese.”
“Not just cheese,” Dalí continued, “but mountains and mountains and mountains of cheese,” a reference, Reynolds duly noted, to the work of St. Augustine.
