The people who came to Manhattan's conservative, brown-walled Knoedler gallery last week brought their poodles with them. The women wore full-length minks, the men wore grey ties to match grey suits. They babbled in twelve languages. It was the kind of crowd that Salvador Dali likes best, and there was the Spanish surrealist, who is now 59, in all his gaudy glory. His well-beeswaxed mustachios are a little shorter than they were. But his habitual gilt vest still glittered as he brandished his enameled cane and explained in cryptic Franglais the 30 new...
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