Sometimes when we think of our favorite artistic and historical figures, we see them as these fantastical beings that lived in their own bubble or reality. It’s hard for us to imagine those acclaimed characters as having insecurities or longing for human connections. Frida Khalo’s life and work has become an enigmatic tale that the world seems to have fallen in love with over the years. The marriage of pain and passion throughout her entire life has continuously attracted the interest of generations born decades after her passing through this Earth. We see her as a symbol of feminine strength and boldness, as well as the embodiment of a complete lust for life.
The words written in the letters to her beloved Diego come to life because of the raw emotions they contain. But there is another letter that shows us a vulnerable side of Frida we perceive but rarely see behind the strong gaze of a woman who spent her entire existence fighting between despair and euphoria. In 1933, the artist was living in Detroit while her husband painted the frescoes of the Institute of the Arts. She had suffered a miscarriage but, as always, had used her work to channel her feelings and physical ailments.
It was at this time when she heard about fellow artist Georgia O’Keeffe suffering from a mental breakdown after having issues completing the mural at Radio City Music Hall. Unlike Frida who had used her palette and canvas to surface her inner demons, O’Keefe was not allowed to paint during her recovery. In a letter available through the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University we are able to read as Frida reaches out to a fellow artist who is struggling with the pressures of life.
“Every day since I called you and many times before months ago I wanted to write you a letter. I wrote you many, but every one seemed more stupid and empty and I torn them up. I can’t write in English all that I would like to tell, especially to you.”
Though there is an assumption among some Frida scholars that perhaps the Mexican painter was interested in pursuing O’Keeffe in a more romantic way, the letter comes off as a sincere token of female solidarity.
“I would like to tell you every thing that happened to me since the last time we saw each other, but most of them are sad and you mustn’t know sad things now. After all I shouldn’t complain because I have been happy in many ways though.”
Frida looks away from her own pain in order to show compassion and sympathy for the American painter. She focuses on the other artist’s complications as she attempts to lighten her burdens. O’Keeffe seems to have been truly grateful of the Mexican artist’s attentions because years later, she would visit Frida in Mexico City after a yearlong hospitalization.
The letter proves to be a beautiful demonstration of how two women can support each other instead of allowing the predominant male narrative to place one against the other. The entire document can be found and read in the Beinecke Collection website.
