For the crowded opening of its new show last week, Manhattan's D'Arcy Galleries had gone to all sorts of pains to set the right mood. Through loudspeakers came the false notes struck by a small child practicing the piano. In one nook were three white hens, in another a gypsy fortuneteller. A green hose snaked through the various rooms, a bicycle hung upside down from the ceiling, an old-fashioned time clock stood guard at the door. With such zany flourishes, surrealism came back to Manhattan in force for the first time in 18 years.
The show was organized by Poet Andre Breton,...
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