The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint always whatever passes through my head, without any other consideration. It was a testimony to Frida’s spirit in the face of suffering, her love of drama and spectacle, and an extra reminder of Frida’s central subject as an artist – herself. With her health badly deteriorated, Frida arrived at the Gallery of Contemporary Art in an ambulance, wearing her favourite traditional Tehuana costume, and received friends and visitors in her four-poster bed, installed earlier. In the preface, Herrera describes an event that perfectly encapsulated Frida’s qualities as a person and a painter: a year before her early death at the age of forty-seven, Frida made an appearance at her first major exhibition in her native Mexico. In retrospect, I almost wish I’d read the book and got more insight into Frida’s life before the visit, but ah well. I’ve been a fan of Frida’s striking, intensely personal paintings for a long time, and during my trip I was lucky enough to visit Casa Azul, the Frida Kahlo Museum in the neighbourhood of Coyoacán in Mexico City. I finally got around to reading this excellent biography of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, which I picked up, appropriately enough, during my trip to Mexico almost three years ago.
0 kommentar(er)
