One historical woman that I admire very much is Frida Kahlo. Frida was born July 6th, 1907. One fun tidbit that makes Frida so interesting is that she often sites her birthday as being July 7th, 1910 which was the date of the Mexican Revolution. Frida liked being associated with revolution and Mexican history, and believed herself to be the daughter of the revolution.
I admire Frida for her unapologetic sense of individuality, self-expression and artistic ability. Frida often painted herself because when she was a teen, she was in a devastating train car accident that left her bones broken and bedridden. Her parents gifted her with paint and put a mirror above her bed. In this isolation, Frida painted many self portraits, often expressing her pain. I find Frida's vulnerability and strength complex and inspiring. Her paintings usually are not of happy scenes, which I find relatable and real. Her paintings are imaginative, often dreamlike. Some of her paintings have political and feminist themes, which appeal to me greatly. Frida's art continues to enchant me and I am always eager to learn more about her and her life.
This is a picture of me at the Milwaukee Art Museum with a real Frida original painting, titled Self Portrait with Monkey which was painted in 1938. The portrait was a part of a traveling exhibition called Van Gogh to Pollock; Modern Rebel. Going to this exhibition, my intention was to finally see a real Frida painting in person. The whole ride to Milwaukee I was excited and anxious- it was like the excitement of going on a date with someone you've adored or seeing a band you love.
Entering the gallery, patrons are first greeted by a Picasso painting, La Toilette. Seeing this, I felt another surge of excitement knowing I was in the presence of history and revered fine art. Finally, I came across Frida. I anticipated that the portrait would be three times as big. I got as close to it as I could. I could see brush strokes, the tiny detailing in her complexion and hairs on the monkey. I began to get emotional. Tears welled up in my eyes. Frida's gaze felt judgmental, as if she were scoffing at me, asking What do you think you're doing? I could sense her internal pain, the cloud of suffering and hardship she experienced. But I also sensed her poise, her resilience and her conviction. I was surprised at how emotional an object could make me feel. I spent lots of time looking at Frida, being with her. There was a silent, kindred ease about spending time with that painting.
On my bucket list, , I would love to travel to Frida's home, La Casa Azul which is located in Mexico City. Frida's famous blue house is now a museum dedicated to her and her life.
