Before Frida stepped on the bus that would change her life forever, she was a person who loved to explore the streets of Mexico City, ride her bike as fast as she could in Coyoacan, and run through the halls of
The National Preparatory School. After her bus collided with a trolley, hurling a metal rod through her pelvis, Frida's ability to move with the ease of a gazelle ended. She had always been curious, creative, and intelligent, but enforced isolation and confinement made Frida a loner. Without the ability to run and join the others or take off at a moment's notice and explore, Frida had to create a stronger inner world. And, this gave her the "time to wonder" and "to search for the truth," as Albert Einstein put it. I wonder what Frida was contemplating at the close of 1930 when she was in San Francisco facing a new year. She had only been in the city for a month and a half. She had met a number of painters, photographers, and sculptors, and she had seen some art and the varied terrain of the Bay Area. She had even traveled north towards Napa, which we might imagine as a beautiful drive beginning with the grand crossing of the Golden Gate Bridge, but in 1930, no bridge existed. At twenty-three, she was a young woman who had been through more than most her age, but she was still just at the beginning of a personal and artistic journey that would have many more twists, turns, and somersaults. She must have been amazed that she was in the United States because she had been dreaming about coming to the land of gringos since at least January 1st of 1925, eight months before her bus accident. Even after the accident, she still referred to this dream in letters to her boyfriend, Alejandro Arias Gomez. To give you a hint of Frida's thoughts concerning traveling and new beginnings, I'm going to quote from a letter she wrote to Alejandro on that first day of the new year in 1925: "My Alex, Today at eleven I picked up your letter but didn't answer right away because, as you will understand, you can't write or do anything when you are surrounded by a herd. But now that it is 10 o'clock at night, and I'm all alone, it's the most appropriate moment to tell you what I think.... Don't you think we should start properly preparing our trip to the United States? Tell me what you think about leaving in December of this year; there'll be enough time to put everything in order, don't you think? Tell me everything you think about it, good or bad, and if you really will be able to go, because look, Alex, it would be good for us to do something in life, don't you think? We can't stay in Mexico for the rest of our lives, like fools! Since to me there is nothing more lovely than traveling, it is a real pain to think that my will isn't strong enough to do what I'm telling you. ...At midnight I thought of you, my Alex; did you think of me? I think you did, too, because my left ear made a sound. Well, as you know, 'New year, new life.' This year, your little woman won't be a 7-peso sugared almond (peladilla), but the sweetest and best one ever known, so you can eat all of it... Your girl who adores you, Friduchita." Even though Frida bemoans her lack of a strong will to make a trip to the United States happen, it was her unyielding will that helped her walk again when she was told she would probably never be able to and it was her staunch determination to be independent that made her focus on painting and seek out Diego Rivera's opinion. Frida certainly had her moments of utter despair and hopelessness while convalescing, but she never completely gave up hope and, in 1930, her dream became a reality; she was in the United States, but instead of seeing this new land with Alejandro, she was seeing it alongside Diego. "New year, new life." "Have holy curiosity. Make your life worth living." These types of thoughts probably entered Frida's consciousness on the eve of the new year in December of 1930; they are wise words to live by. I hope my new year is filled with even more holy curiosity than usual and the joy of discovering new aspects of myself and Frida. I hope yours is filled with "time to wonder" and the will to make your dreams come true. Happy New Year! © Celia S. Stahr 2014
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When Frida and Diego first arrived in San Francisco in 1930, they toured the Bay Area, visiting farms in Northern California so Diego could gather information for his mural Allegory of California for the luncheon room at The Pacific Stock Exchange. He wanted to learn as much as he could about the Golden State. In the end, his mural depicts "California" as an imposing Earth Mother whose left side is filled with the natural riches of the land while her right side is mined, investigated, and cut down. The images of industry behind Mother Earth explain why some of her land is destroyed. Profit is the driving force in a capitalist economy. Luther Burbank is embedded into the right side of the mural. He's the man down on his knees inspecting a plant. In Frida's portrait of the same man, which I discussed in a previous blog, Burbank is front and center. Frida's portrait places Luther Burbank out in nature with no clear connection to industry. Instead, the artist pays homage to a man whose grafting experiments led to more varieties of fruits, vegetables, and trees. In Diego's mural, Burbank is one of many who have had an impact on California's economy. It's interesting to reflect on what each artist chooses to emphasize about California. Life and death are expressed in both, but in very different ways, both visually and metaphorically. Also, only Diego's mural references Calafia, a black woman warrior who ruled over a Queendom of black women on the mythic island of California. Apparently, Diego was familiar with this queen, yet he made his allegorical female figure white. Not only would Diego have read about the origins of California, but he would have seen Maynard Dixon and Frank Von Sloan's 1926 seven foot mural at The Mark Hopkins Hotel in San Francisco (seen above). Dixon and Von Sloan's mural depicts the Queen and two of her warriors as dark-skinned women. The question remains: why did Diego Rivera paint California's queen as white? Do you think he changed her skin color to appease the predominantly white stock traders who would have seen her on their way to the luncheon room? How many Californians know the origin of the word California? It is believed to come from Garci Rodriguez de Montalvo's book The Adventures of Esplandian, c. 1500. This fictionalized account of Queen Calafia describes her as a courageous and strong queen who wore armour made out of gold. This pagan queen commands a fleet of ships and she uses griffins, fantastical winged creatures, as aerial weaponry. When she meets Radiaro, a Moslem warrior, he convinces her to join him in retaking Constantinople from the Christian armies. In the end, they lose this battle and Calafia is imprisoned. She eventually converts to Christianity and marries Talanque, a Christian knight. They return to the island of California and establish a new dynasty comprised of Christian men and women. The word Calafia is thought to derive from both the Arabic word Khalifa, translated as "Religious/State leader," and the Spanish word Califa, translated as leader or successor. The word is either spelled Calafia or Califia. The Spanish conquistador, Hernan Cortés, read Montalvo's book. When landing in Baja, Cortes exclaimed to his crew that they had arrived in Califia's land. Three-hundred crew members were of African descent, including Juan Garrido, the second-in-command. From this point on, Califia and California were used to describe this area along the entire Pacific Coast. Since it was controlled by Spain, the Spanish-speaking people were referred to as Californios. By 1770, the area was officially known as California. © Celia S. Stahr 2014 For more information on the origin of California, refer to: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Etymology_of_California Ever since the Grand Jury acquitted the white officer in the murder of Eric Garner in Staten Island, I have felt paralyzed as a writer. I didn't know what to write in my blog. I just knew that I couldn't write as if nothing had happened. Frida would have been outraged. She was a passionate defender of social justice and the Grand Jury's decision is unjust.
Then, in a flash, I knew what to write. Frida painted this incredible portrait of Eva Frederick in 1931. It's incredible because she captures Eva's beauty, composure, and strong gaze. It's incredible because it conveys Eva's humanity. Most depictions of people of African descent in the history of Western art or in the popular media were of slaves, racist caricatures, or the "noble savage." Eva is none of these "types." She is a real person; however, aside from her name and where she's from, seen in the inscription above her head, we know nothing about this woman. Interestingly, Eva was from New York, just like Eric Garner. Her lack of a personal history is a metaphor for me of America's racist history. Just as the slaves were torn from their cultures and families, Eva Frederick's personal history has been lost. Recovering her history has proved quite a challenge. Thus far, I've found very little. She is still only a face with a name and place of origin. I wish I knew what Frida was thinking about when she painted Eva's portrait. Did she know her very well? Did Frida consciously strive to capture Eva's essence in an attempt to combat racist stereotypes? When we don't see other people as human beings, we can turn them into caricatures, enemies, evil, etc. African Americans, as well as many other ethnic groups, have been reduced to stereotypes within Western culture. People of African descent were feared as primitive savages. Brutal lynchings in the history of the United States attest to the level of fear that whites have felt in the presence of black men. Lynchings were used to enforce laws and unwritten rules of conduct, but I think fear fueled the horrific violence. I also think fear fuels the violence in the numerous cases of black men being killed by white officers. Eric Garner's senseless death is an obvious example because we have video footage of a group of white men tackling Garner to the ground and using a choke hold on him, which cut off his air supply. Why did these officers feel the need to tackle him to the ground with such violence? He was accused of selling cigarettes. He was unarmed. When he told them over and over that he couldn't breathe, why didn't one of the officers say to let go of the choke hold? Why? I would answer: fear, fueled by racist hatred. President Obama said in an interview on BET television on December 8th that "We can't equate what's happening now to what was happening fifty years ago." I take issue with the President's statement because I think the prevalence of violence aimed against African American men by white police officers is steeped in our racist history. We can connect what is happening now to what was happening fifty years ago and one hundred and fifty years ago. In fact, we can connect it back to the founding of this country and the institution of slavery. I understand that President Obama wants to reassure people that "things are getting better," but I think it's great that people are taking to the streets for peaceful protests because in this day and age, black men should not be dying at the hands of white police officers due to racist fears. Progress, as President Obama said, happens in steps. Well, let's hope the power of the people brings about progress in leaps and bounds, not steps. In the 1930s, when Frida made her portrait of Eva Frederick, anti-lynching advocates, such as Mary McLeod Bethune, championed for anti-lynching laws. The Costigan-Wagner bill was drafted, which would have required local authorities to protect prisoners from lynchings, but President Roosevelt never signed it. It would take another ten to fifteen years for the first successful federal prosecution of a lyncher. We don't want to wait 10-15 years to see progress in the police departments. Hopefully, with people voicing their outrage and keeping the pressure on, progress will come much sooner. Frida would want to see people of all races and classes unite to make change happen because "Black Lives Matter!" "When anybody in this country is not being treated equally under the law, that is a problem, and it's my job as president to help solve it." President Obama, please live up to your word! © Celia S. Stahr 2014 Frida Kahlo, Portrait of Luther Burbank, 1931, 34 1/4 x 24 7/16," oil on Masonite Museo Dolores Olmedo, Xochimilco, Banco de Mexico Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums The Thanksgiving holiday is supposed to be about enjoying our family and friends surrounded by a bountiful array of tasty food, but how many of us gave thanks to Luther Burbank last week? How many people know about Luther Burbank, the "Wizard of Horticulture?" Frida certainly did because she created this incredible portrait of him while she was living in San Francisco. Although Burbank is from Massachusetts, as an adult, he made his home Santa Rosa, CA. He died in 1926, but his wife Elizabeth Waters stayed there until her death in 1977. Elizabeth left the house to the city of Santa Rosa, and today, it is a museum and park. Frida went to Burbank's house and witnessed first hand what this man had created: a horticulturist's paradise. Burbank was revered in the early 20th century for his creation of new plants, fruits, and vegetables through cross-breeding. Most of us probably had potatoes for Thanksgiving, but did you know that the Burbank russet potato derives its name from Luther Burbank? While reading Darwin, Burbank became interested in the idea that each plant contains countless possible variations. While checking on his potato plants one day, he noticed some tiny seed pods growing on them. He decided to plant 23 seed pods to see what would happen. Two produced potatoes, resulting in the russet with its white interior and brown skin. Have you ever enjoyed a plumcot, part Japanese plum and apricot? If so, you have Luther Burbank to thank. Prior to his cross-breeding of these two fruits, people thought it impossible to cross two trees with such different types of fruit. He managed to create the soft plum-like flesh with the apricot scent, seen below. Burbank's ability to create new species of fruits and vegetables has changed the way we think about food by introducing us to a variety of species from around the world. Likewise, Frida introduced us to a new style of painting. If you go back and look at her portrait of Jean Wight, you'll notice that Frida's style has changed with her portrait of Luther Burbank. Instead of creating a more traditional portrait of a seated Burbank in an interior setting, Frida paints a standing Burbank who is part tree/part human. Underneath Burbank's trunk, lies his skeleton. Frida probably places a skeleton here because Burbank was buried under a Cedar tree at his home. Therefore, Frida intertwines Burbank's life and death with the skeleton below nourishing the tree, man, and plant above. Even though Frida never met Burbank, her portrait of him is extraordinary, revealing a connection that she must have felt with this "wizard."
© Celia S. Stahr 2014 |
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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