From 1995 to 1998, F and I
had the privilege of living in Coyoacán, Frida Kahlo's neighbourhood in Mexico
City. During this time, visits to her
house ("La Casa Azul") turned into weekly pilgrimages to this sanctuary
of sorts, where I could be found sitting or ambling in tranquil reverie. Her very ingenious talent was ever present, as was the
clear connection between her work and the sense of self and place
inherent to her pieces. This awareness often sparked a powerful feeling of certainty, never experienced in any other place and
every so often, I miss it.
Yesterday,
an inkling of that "Casa Azul" notion was recaptured while
visiting the exhibit "Frida and Diego, Passion, Politics and Painting". The AGO brought my Coyoacán back to me, if only for a little while. Though
Toronto is home now, the show reminded me of how much I yearn for the
explosive and overdramatic cultural scene in Mexico. MÉXICO, vibrant*
custodian of prodigious talent.
I like Frida and Diego (Rivera) a lot, and in all honesty, I enjoy them even more on their
own and without their politics. Diego's
early pieces from his Paris years (ca.1911-1920) are simply incredible, reflecting the obvious
influence of the very good company he was keeping
while at Montparnasse (Modigliani, Foujita, Chagall and Picasso, to name
a few--I can't even begin to imagine what those years must have been
like!). My absolute favourite Rivera is from this period, "The
Mathematician", in the collection of the Museo Dolores Olmedo Patiño,
and currently visiting Toronto (!!!!). Enthralling and quiet wonderment. Brilliant.
Regarding Frida's work, it is hard to decide on a particular favourite. My preferred images, however, came as very pleasant surprises through the lens of Nickolas Muray. I had seen these portraits of Frida plenty of times in postcards and books, but never had the chance to see the actual prints, until yesterday. They are stunning--the saturation and contrast of the colours are mesmerizing. Plus she looks so content, and her hands are beautiful, it seems silly, but I had never noticed them before.
In my opinion, it is important to elaborate on the impact and influence this gifted duo had in Mexican painting, I just need to better organize my thoughts so that they may be set forth succinctly and eloquently, in no way a lecture, but rather, a somewhat informed (I'm no expert) opinion.
Regarding Frida's work, it is hard to decide on a particular favourite. My preferred images, however, came as very pleasant surprises through the lens of Nickolas Muray. I had seen these portraits of Frida plenty of times in postcards and books, but never had the chance to see the actual prints, until yesterday. They are stunning--the saturation and contrast of the colours are mesmerizing. Plus she looks so content, and her hands are beautiful, it seems silly, but I had never noticed them before.
In my opinion, it is important to elaborate on the impact and influence this gifted duo had in Mexican painting, I just need to better organize my thoughts so that they may be set forth succinctly and eloquently, in no way a lecture, but rather, a somewhat informed (I'm no expert) opinion.
For the time being, the song of the day is La Cumbia del Mole. I kept thinking about it throughout my visit to the Gallery. Lila Downs was introduced to me by F in
2007, when we were back in Mexico City. She is a formidable
musician and artist, with an unmistakable speck of Frida in her. Seemingly, there is a smidgen of Frida in
all us.
---
EMI music is pretty clear about its copyright policies, so in order to avoid problems, I will not post the video. However, click here to view it in youtube with EMI's blessing (Lila Downs, La Cumbia Del Mole, in her album "La Cantina", EMI 2006). Vibrant* is the operative word.
No comments:
Post a Comment