Why I love Frieda
The artist has an obligation to be authentic. Frieda Khalo is an icon of being authentic
The other day I received in the mail, a catalog from an art exhibit. The exhibit featured a prize winning portrait on the first page. The portrait depicted a young woman, looking straight at the viewer. The figure has long hair parted down the middle. She is draped in a poor imitation of a Navejo blanket. Around her neck are strings of beads. Looking at the artist's website I confirmed my impression that the painter was not native, but focused rather on commercial western art.
In previous posts I wrote about RC Gorman as a first peoples artist who made work that challenged an existing settler mentality in the art world. This mentality normalized the appropriation of Indigenous peoples culture and art. This practice was once seen as benign. Today those outside of a tribe in the art market place should know better than create tropes of the rich culture of our nation's first peoples.
Strangely enough as soon as I looked at that first page my mind started thinking of how much I’ve grown to love Frida Kahlo along with so many other women. She had become an feminist icon.
Frida was born in 1907 to a German Jewish father and a mestiza mother. Her father was a photographer and intellectual. At six she contracted polio, which would leave her alive but with one leg shorter than the other. It would also leave with a fierce determination to succeed. She was a gifted student who was possibly on track to become a doctor. In a private school she also discovered radical politics that were popular in Mexico at that time. At 18 Frieda was on her way to greater things when she was involved in a terrible accident.
She was riding in a bus with her boyfriend when it hit a trolley car. Some of the passengers were killed. Kahlo, although lucky to be alive, sustained fractures of her spine, right leg, collarbone, pelvis, right foot and extensive internal injuries. The accident resulted in a month in a hospital bed in a cast. She would endure 30 procedures to help correct the injury and endure chronic pain for much of her life.
While she was in the hospital she renewed an earlier interest in art. Her mother provided her with a mirror, paints, and a canvas to help fill up her time. It was also a period of deep self reflection. She used herself as a model and created portraits of her pain. They were the seeds of her later work which delved into the spiritual and surreal themes related to healing.
When she was able to return to a more normal life Freda began embracing the indigenous culture of her mother. She dressed herself in long skirts and wrapped herself in traditional woven textiles. It was not a costume or a passing fad. “The version of herself that she shared with the public, a distinct persona of bohemian Mexicanidad and liberal politics” is the description given by an article in Art News. Her whole life became art.
The goal of the artist is to present an authentic voice. Freda Kahlo is the antithesis of the white woman painting a portrait of a squaw. She is more famous now after her death than she was as the wife of Mexican muralist Diego Rivera. It is not only Frida’s art that has enshrined her reputation but also her point of view of being absolutely authentic in everything she did in a machismo culture.
Authenticity has also been on my mind in a recent submission to an exhibition at the Springville Museum of Art. The theme is on religious and spiritual art. Because Utah is the home of the Church of Christ of Latter Day Saints, many submissions are from artist members of the Church. I was raised in the Catholic faith, but have long ago been on my own spiritual journey outside of organized religion. Spirituality has been an ongoing theme in my work.
When I entered, I selected two pieces from my portfolio. One was the subject of a previous post; The Butterfly Effect. It was not accepted. The second was Poet which was accepted into the exhibition.
I had struggled with making this portrait because at the edges, it could be seen through the lens of cultural appropriation. Poet is a portrait of Rabindranath Tagore. A true Renaissance man of the east, he was a Bengali poet, writer, playwright, composer, philosopher, social reformer, and painter, of the Bengal Renaissance. In 1913 he was the first non European to win the Nobel Prize. It was one of his poems which inspired the portrait of the Bard of Bengal.
Here is my favorite stanza from a poem of his I love called “Waiting”
The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument
Waiting was written on the first page of one of my journals. Many entries in that journal began with reading and reflecting on his words. I saw the poem in the context of waiting for death; even the death of a career, or relationship, and preparing for what comes next. The subject matter stretches beyond a single culture and is present in most faith paths.
“The poem captures the universal longing for connection and the frustration of unfulfilled potential, resonating with readers in any time period. It reflects the human experience of waiting, hoping, and the bittersweet ache of missed opportunities.” All Poetry Review
Although I am not Bengali, I hope my portrait is a reminder to myself and viewers of the universal nature of the human condition. It also serves as a reminder to seek wisdom without putting up the walls which limits one to the familiar. Going beyond a single book or prophet has been a gift in my life. I am always open to discovering new inspiration and new ways to connect spiritually.
Until Next Time…
Margaret
I will be taking a break next week. If you are so inclined, I have many previous posts here on Substack. Most are short reads. 1000 words is my target. They all are focused on the story behind the art I make. I love hearing from you dear reader. Until the next post: Peace