Thank you JJ for your astute comment. I agree that it is fascinating to look at magazines from an earlier time period in order to gain a better understanding of that era and/or different culture. I did some digging for Panorama as well and I couldn't find anything about a magazine from the 1920s. I did find an Italian Panorama beginning in 1939, but I don't think this is the same one. I'll have to go deeper. This is the process of research. You first skim the surface to see if you can find any leads. If you do, then you have to keep following that trail. With the Internet, this trail could go on for quite a long time. You just hope that the trail leads to the information you need to create a more complete story. Unfortunately, many trails just wander off into oblivion. I've spent hours, sometimes days, researching, and in the end, I still couldn't put all the pieces together. In other words, I have many fragmented stories that I have to leave out of the larger article. You would think that with an artist as well known as Frida that all the information would be on the table, but it isn't. Of course, all the information never will be.
Just think about your own life. Could you recover all the information about it? Do you need to recover all the information? Probably not. You have to decide what information is the most important to include. In the case of a memoir, you're making these decisions about your own life; however, as a scholar, you make decisions about someone else's life and art. The differences are obvious, but one aspect that is similar has to do with perspective. In both cases, there are a myriad of ways to write the "story." It depends, in large part, upon the perspective of the author. With a memoir, you'd think that there would be one "true" story, but the author's family members or friends could remember things from a different vantage point. Which one is true? Is one more valid? In the case of scholarly research, we might think that there would be fewer discrepancies between authors, yet, you can interpret a letter, painting, critics' reviews, etc. in many ways. You can piece together the information you think is most important, leaving out what you find less significant. Another author might disagree and highlight the parts you've deemed unimportant. Which story is more accurate?
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Even though Frida was not happy with her portrait of Miguel Lira, which I discuss in the 9/24 post, according to one of her letters to Alejandro in July of 1927, Miguel submitted a photograph of it to a magazine called Panorama. What's interesting is that she says this first issue of Panorama will also feature "Diego." I'm assuming she means Diego Rivera. This is a foreshadowing of what's to come. Approximately two years after she writes this letter, she marries Diego. Approximately three years after Frida writes the letter, she is in San Francisco with Diego. This is also fascinating because she wrote to Alejandro on more than one occasion about her desire to travel, including a trip to the United States.
It's fascinating to look back on our lives to see how our paths twisted and turned. At the time, it can seem as if our lives are stagnant, but with hindsight, the moments of stagnation can be viewed as important pauses in our personal development. For Frida, the hours, days, months, and years of recovery after the bus/trolley accident were unbearable at times. Reading her letters, we can feel her physical and emotional pain. Even when Miguel is submitting the photograph of Frida's portrait of him to Panorama, she is still in a plaster corset, yet, she needed this time to reflect, to muster her strong will, and to paint. Now, I want to look up Panorama to see if Frida's painting was reproduced in it and if Diego Rivera's work was also featured. Let me know if you know anything about it. Detail of Self-Portrait, 1926, 31 x 23 1/2," oil on canvas, Private Collection, Bequest of Alejandro Gomez Arias, Mexico City Just one year before Frida painted the portrait of Miguel Lira, discussed in the last post, she created Self-portrait with a Velvet Dress, 1926. What a difference in terms of style! Unlike the portrait of Miguel, this one is devoid of all the symbols. Also, Frida pushes herself up against the picture plane and stares out at the viewer with those piercing eyes. She pulls us in with her seductive and intelligent gaze. Frida's portrait of Miguel is a visual puzzle that asks us to dissect it with our minds. Here, Frida tugs on the emotions. The waves behind her symbolize deep emotion. It makes sense when you understand that she made this self-portrait for Alejandro. On the back of the painting, Frida the following: "Frieda Kahlo at the age of 17. September of 1926-Coyoacan-Heute ist Immer Noch (Today still remains)." This inscription reveals Frida's German side because her first name was spelled with the German "e;" however, Frida changed it in the early 1930s. Also, Frida knew the German language because of her father and a German school she attended. It's an interesting expression-Today still remains. What do you think this might mean for Frida? What was she trying to convey to Alejandro? Frida did not hand this painting to her boyfriend. Instead, she sent it to him with this note: "Forgive me for giving it to you without a frame. I implore you to put it somewhere low, where you can look at it as if you were looking at me." Maybe Frida wanted her image to always remain in Alejandro's psyche. If he looked at the painted Frida and imagined that she was the "real" Frida, then she "still remains" connected to Alejandro. Do you think art is that powerful? |
Celia Stahr teaches art history at the University of San Francisco. She’s interested in women artists and artists who cross cultural boundaries. She fell in love with the power of Frida Kahlo's art in the 1980s, a feeling that has intensified over the years. Frida in America took 10 years to research and write, but Stahr never lost interest in this fascinating woman and artist.
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October 2022
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