A Conversation about Frida, the Movie
By Harilyn Rousso (HarilynR@aol.com)
Introduction
The movie Frida tells a life story of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, based on the biography by Hayden Herrera, with a screenplay by Clancy Sigal, Diane Lake, Gregory Nava and Anna Thomas. Directed by Julie Taymor, who also directed the Broadway play The Lion King, and the movie Titus, the film stars Salma Hayek, who was born and raised in Mexico, as Frida and Alfred Molina as her husband, the well-known Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, with a supporting cast including Ashley Judd as photographer Tina Modotti, Antonio Banderas as painter David Siquieros, and Geoffrey Rush as Leon Trotsky. The film represents a victory for Hayek, who was also a co-producer; she fought for almost a decade to get this movie made, winning out over Jennifer Lopez and Madonna, who were also eager to make a film about Kahlo. Another of Hayek's coups in the film was to showcase the Costa Rican singer, Chavela Vargas, who made her name performing in Mexico and was a close friend of Kahlo.
Kahlo (1907-1954), while eclipsed by her more famous husband during her lifetime, has become somewhat of an icon in recent years, particularly in the United States. There have been several major shows of her work in New York, Houston, Seattle and London, and she has been the subject of many books as well as varied "Frida" items, including calendars, posters, pins, refrigerator magnets and a US postage stamp. She is perhaps best known for her personalized style of painting that focused on her own inner and outer life-she painted numerous self-portraits, for example; her stormy marriage to Rivera - he was a womanizer and she, in turn, had numerous affairs with men and women; and her leftist political leanings following the Mexican Revolution-both she and Rivera were variously in and out of the Communist party.
Less known, even today is that Kahlo was a woman with numerous impairments. She had polio at age six, which significantly weakened her right leg. Then, at 18, she was in a life-threatening bus accident that caused breaks in her spinal cord, right leg and foot and other parts of her body, resulting in continuous pain and physical problems throughout much of her life, despite undergoing more than 30 operations. She was also believed to have had a congenital impairment affecting her spine, possibly spina bifida. Kahlo's disability status directly affected her decision to become a painter: she had intended to pursue a career in medicine until the bus accident. When she was placed in a body cast for several months following the accident, she began to paint and then decided to pursue a career as a painter. Disability, or at least some of the medical procedures and pain associated with her disability, was also the subject of some of her paintings; in a few of her later works, she paints herself in a wheelchair.
Recently, Simi Linton, writer, disability studies scholar [author of Claiming Disability; Knowledge and Identity] and president of Disability/Arts Consultancy, and I had a conversation about our reactions to the film Frida. Although we covered several aspects of the film, one major focus was on how the film portrayed disability. Excerpts of our conversation appear below.
Overall reactions
Simi: What were your overall reactions to the film?
Harilyn: I thought it was beautiful visually. I really enjoyed seeing her and the paintings, although I wish there had been more of her artwork; there was some, but not enough for me. I found it compelling. Part of what I liked was that she was strong, assertive, not a passive victim as she has sometimes been portrayed in terms of her relationship with Diego Rivera. They were both difficult, corrupt in some ways,maybe an equal match. What about you? How did you find it?
S: I liked looking at the film a lot. I didn't like hearing it. I found the fact that it was in English irritating; I thought their accents were dopey. To me, this would have made a perfect Spanish language film. I think they "Hollywooded" it up a lot, even in the depictions of the sexual encounters with women. There was more titillation than substance.
H: On the other hand, ten years ago, we never would have seen those scenes, so in a way it was amazing to have as much of a lesbian theme in there.
S: And it was very sexy. It was hot and in that way I liked it. I liked her manner with the women - it was very natural. She presumed or assumed they would respond and they did. So there were elements that I liked. But, I found her a little too cute and plucky. My image of Frida Kahlo from paintings I have seen - she seems rougher and more solid, not just physically, but as a figure, as a character, than I found Salma Hayek to be.
H: You mean more complex, not that plucky, moving ahead kind of image?
S: Yes, but I was bothered not just by the plucky determinism, but she was also too cute, like a cheerleader. I have a feeling that Frida was a darker figure, a less adorable figure.
H: She didn't seem entirely real - as a character, she didn't feel like a real person. She was a bit on the superficial side.
S: I had a sense of her [Salma Hayek] playing to the mirror a lot before she did it. It seemed studied and rehearsed in a way that great acting doesn't. In terms of acting, the person I liked and believed the most was the father. Albert Molina [Diego Rivera] was OK, I liked him at points, but again, not the accent.
Exciting visual imagery
S: But visually, the imagery was very exciting, although I didn't watch parts of the accident.
H: A little too close to home?
S: I tend not to watch automobile accidents, having been in one myself, and one I'd rather not remember. I did see some of it, though.
H: It was more of a montage than the actual depiction. In a way, that was sort of gussied up, with pieces melded together in a way that you didn't see the pain of it all.
S: But, there were other things that were kind of real about it. The tumbling fruit, the way things happen out of control, slow motion is, I think, the way these things happen. Each second has lots of things happening in it.
Childhood disability erased
H: I can see what you mean there. One thing that disturbed me, even before the accident scene was that although she had polio at age six, that fact was completely erased in the film. From what I have read in the Herrera biography and elsewhere, the polio had a significant effect on her-more on her appearance and how she felt about her looks than on her physical prowess. Her father in particular was very adamant about getting her to develop herself physically after she had polio. He got her involved in exercise and sports, so apparently, she could do most everything physically, but in terms of how she looked, her right leg, the one affected by polio, was much thinner than her left, resulting in considerable self-consciousness and self-esteem issues. To take it one step further, according to some accounts, she was born with a disability in addition to getting polio - some impairment to her spine, maybe spina bifida. None of this was picked up in the film. In her early years, as portrayed in the film, she appears totally nondisabled, with no evidence of physical difference or self-consciousness about her body.
S: And totally confidant, sexy and lusty in an uncomplicated way. Which, given her gender and disability and the times she was living in seems unlikely. Also - and I'm skipping ahead many volumes here - when she wakes up in the hospital after the accident and says "How long have I been here?" and asks if her boyfriend Alex is okay, she didn't seem confused or anxious - as someone waking up after a trauma would be. Also, she is in a hospital and didn't seem startled to be there. Given that she had had polio as a child and had had many treatments, maybe hospitals were not a new territory to her. I found that scene very unreal and problematic in a lot of ways. That background [her prior experience with disability] would have been very important.
H: It would have helped - put it [the accident] in context. She was, in fact, multiply disabled, yet the film gives no sense of that.
S: The process by which someone becomes or is confident, as a child growing up, in the face of impairment, is totally glossed over here. She just seems like the most confident 18 year old we've ever seen. How that happened, to the extent it was true, is hard to believe.
H: I guess we could wonder why Julie Taymor decided not to represent that early history at all, how that might have interfered with her vision of the story. It seemed important to have her look perfect until the accident.
S: Maybe because the accident was perceived as so much more dramatic - and in a sense, romantic. Here she was with this young man, and they loved each other, and she was carrying this gold dust and it spilled all over her.
Choosing bits and pieces
H: Every biography, either written or in film, involves the author or director choosing bits and pieces of the person's life. It becomes a question of what is chosen and why - and whether those choices reflect stereotypical assumptions - in this case toward disability.
S: Some of this is unanswerable. We could speculate that Julie Taymor did not want to focus on disability beyond what was absolutely necessary. Even the way her recovery was glossed over, one could speculate that there was a strong wish to make as little of that as was possible in her life. Whereas if you and/or I were making this film, that would have been a much, much bigger piece.
H: We would have integrated disability much more into her life story. It appears to me that she has the accident, next we see her in the body cast, we see a lot of suffering for perhaps several months and then she's up and running, almost as though she has resumed her nondisabled status, pretty much until the last half hour or so of the film.
S: Also, at the time of the accident, we see more frustration with the constraints than we see anguish and pain or her questioning "What does this mean for my life and how is it going to be?"
"Disability studies moment"
H: No, she doesn't ask those questions, although she does have that interesting encounter with her father. At one point, she says to him: "You used to ask me what I was going to do with my life, and now you don't ask me." I thought that was interesting - significant.
S: Yes, I liked that. If you were looking for a 'disability studies moment' in the film, that was the quintessential one. Another potential moment that was missed was after the accident, when she's walking with a cane, and she approaches the bus. She hesitates, and it's not clear if she's hesitating because it is going to be hard for her to climb onto the bus, or she's hesitating about getting back on the bus as the source of trauma from the accident. We see the bus approaching, we see her hesitancy, and the next shot is her on the bus. So what I wanted to know is how the hell she got on the bus! It could have been a wonderful moment to show that once you're using a cane, you can't get on the bus again.
H: That there are real barriers out there. There's also the issue of the cane. The cane seemed to be there at times, but only very sporadically.
S: You mean walking up the steps-
From the wheelchair to walking to the tango
H: Even before that. Remember the scene in the garden where she's sitting in her wheelchair a few months after the accident? To me, this is the quintessential stereotype about the person who is in an accident or illness--that their main desire, preoccupation is to be able to walk again. She is sitting in the garden, her parents arrive and she gets up out of the wheelchair, takes her first steps and suddenly becomes almost nondisabled.
S: Remind me to get back to the wheelchair question. Regarding the cane, in one respect, it does happen for people with a lot of impairments that you have times when you need the cane, others when you don't. For me, that was less of a problem because it seemed real in her life. She probably did walk up those steps with Trotsky-
H: Really? I found that totally unbelievable, as I found her dance with photographer Tina Modotti, that tango, in which she was perfectly coordinated. That didn't seem real to me, for her to move with such smoothness.
S: I would love to know if both of those things ever happened. We'll never know... That's part of what I meant when I said the movie was more titillating that substantive. I mean, where was her worry that she was going to fall?
H: Right. She says something to the effect that if an old man [referring to Trotsky] can do it [climb a pyramid on stone steps], then a cripple can, but I doubt either could, at least not with the agility they showed.
Use of the word "cripple"
S: I liked how she used 'cripple.' There was another time she said she didn't want to be-
H: A burden? Maybe that's not the example you were thinking of. I was thinking of that encounter with her dad early on after the accident when she first said "You don't ask me any more what I want to do with me life," and so he asked. And her response was "I feel now like I'm a burden, but I want to become a self-sufficient cripple," or something along those lines.
S: Yes. I liked her use of "cripple". It seemed like there was a role model that she was following - that there is such a thing as a "self-sufficient cripple," and that was what she aspired to. And it was unapologetic and unconflicted for her. Whether she invented that or whether there she was someone she had seen who was like that, we don't know.
H: She was certainly more out there as a disabled woman at those moments than in any other places in the film.
S: It was explicit, and I liked that piece of it. And also the owning of being a cripple with Trotsky - "well, if an old man can do it, a cripple can do it" - and I think the owning of that was sort of the way I like to think that I "own" disability, and I'd like to think she might have as well.
Strategies and seduction
H: To me, at that point, her comment to Trotsky seemed more out of the blue. Her disability had not been particularly evident for many of the scenes preceding that. Remember the scene during her initial courting of Rivera-when she gets him to come down from his scaffolding to look at her paintings rather than her attempting to climb up, that potentially could have been another disability moment-
S: I think the audience understood that - that she used her wiles. You're not going to say to someone "Excuse me, but I can't get up there so you have to come down." I understood her strategy. It was effective, it worked, and she got a kick out of it.
H: It was seductive in a way. Yes, I suppose that made sense, although I'd love to see a scene where you can acknowledge limitations and be seductive at the same time. But what I was really getting at was after that point, when the relationship gets going, we really don't see any visible signs of her disability.
S: I think for me, the most moving moment in the film was when she gets undressed [in front of Diego] and says "I have a scar" and he kisses it and says "You're perfect." I found that very real.
H: I think it was real-reflected a real concern that women and probably men, with scars on their bodies have about sexual encounters.
S: It was a real moment, and I found it very moving, and very believable.
H: It's sort of interesting that we have no sense of whether her pain or her limitations affected how she engaged sexually, and whether she had to accommodate that.
S: Right. Did she have bladder problems? Did she have problems with sensation? None of that appears. About the wheelchair, which I don't want to forget--.I was startled to see the wheelchair she was sitting in because the first wheelchair she's shown in, in the courtyard after the accident - when was that?
H: Somewhere around 1925, I think.
S: I don't think wheelchairs like that existed in 1925. It looked like an Everest and Jennings, the kind of chair that was first manufactured after World War II.
H: She did a couple of paintings of herself in a wheelchair, but when she does that, it's later, in the late 1940's.
Progression of disability unclear
S: Yes, by that time she would have had access to that type of chair. Getting back to the extent of her impairment, later we see a below-the-knee prosthesis, so we are given a visual signal that she's had more surgeries since the accident.
H: It's another example of how things are not spelled out. The surgery involving the amputation of her leg apparently really did her in emotionally as well as physically. It's not clear how she ultimately died. In the film it's vague, but according to some of the biographies I've seen, she may have committed suicide, or at least overdosed on drugs.
Back to the issue of how disabled she is, or how disabled she appears in the film, I found it shocking when we finally do see her using a wheelchair in an ongoing way, which is about an hour and a half into the film. We are given no sense of the progression of her disability. Until then, her disability was not shown as affecting her daily life. It was shown as affecting her painting - both her decision to paint and at least some of the content of her paintings, but not the details of her life. She was by and large portrayed as a "non-disabled disabled women." Then suddenly well into the film she is shown as quite significantly disabled.
Unconvincing denouement as a painter
S: The scene that struck me as most off was the scene in which she wakes up in the hospital after the accident. Frida wakes up and she's not even confused about where she is or what happened, or frightened. She just says, "How long have I been here?"
H: It's not very convincing.
S: It isn't convincing. And she immediately starts painting, and it seems unconflicted for her. I understand the impulse to paint, but I don't understand her casualness.
H: I found her decision to paint after the accident a bit perplexing. We don't have much of a sense of her process of becoming a painter. She may have been influenced by her father, who was a photographer and I think she worked for a while for a lithographer, for whom she did some drawing, but none of this is spelled out in the film. It is presented as though one day she decides to paint, and her father encourages her. And her personal style-we have no sense of how it evolved. What were other women artists in Mexico doing? Was she influenced by them?
S: And self-portraits. I can't think of any other painter who has done quite as many self-portraits as she has - and what was that about? She doesn't appear to be - at least not in this film - any more narcissistic than many painters, and certainly less narcissistic than Rivera, who was completely self-involved. Why was that? Was there some way that she had less access to the world? It seemed like she was out in the world a lot.
H: Apparently, initially, that was her claim, that she knew most about herself. I do think she was more isolated than is implied in the film. I think there were long periods of time-hospitalizations-when she didn't have much contact with the outside world.
Suffering, social view, self-sufficiency
S: And we saw a mirror on the ceiling on the top of her bed. She said at some point, "I don't want to be buried, I want to be cremated. I've spent too much time horizontal."
You know, I thought of something else that I mentioned to you a long time ago. When I first saw your paintings, I made a comparison between them and Frida Kahlo's paintings. It seems to me that her paintings embody an impairment/medicalized view of disability and your paintings embody a social view. You show interaction, you show connectedness and disconnectedness in very clear ways in your paintings. And yet Frida doesn't show that social process at all in her paintings.
H: It's partly her times. She didn't have a disability community. I think she had very little contact with other disabled people, other than apparently one of her surgeons in Mexico, Dr. Juan Farill, was disabled himself, some type of mobility impairment. But other than him, she seemed quite isolated in her experience.
In her paintings, she seemed to focus on the suffering aspect of her experience. I see her almost more as a sufferer than as a disabled woman. She's a suffering woman-that's more of what comes across in her paintings. Her desire to become that "self-sufficient cripple" that she talks about with her father doesn't translate into imagery in her paintings.
I've been thinking more about that "self-sufficiency" issue. She also mentions that when she shows her paintings to Rivera for his opinion. He says something like "What do you care what I think about your painting? If you're a real painter, you'll have to paint." And she says: "No, I have to make a living, I have to help my family. If I'm not good at this, I have to do something else." I wondered whether she was more concerned about supporting herself because she was a disabled woman and might not find a husband to support her.
S: Her father had spent so much money and had gone into hock for her surgeries. But even when you think about a woman, a nondisabled woman, at that time, I wonder whether any woman was able to make a living.
H: I spoke with a friend, Electa Arenal, a professor of Latin American and Women's Studies, about women and work in Mexico around this time, and she said that the Mexican Revolution opened up a window of opportunity for women. Women had more opportunities in the arts and other areas than before. She also remarked that for women who came from families with money, working was more possible for women because families had maids to do domestic chores. So Frida's concern with making her own living didn't seem so unusual from expectations of other women in her class, when Electa put it in that context. Being disabled was not a key factor here.
Electa, by the way, liked the movie more than she had expected. She feared it would be dreadful, the typical "Americanization" of a non-American story, but she found it better than that - althoughgh it was in her terms "beautified," covering over some of the horrors of Frida's life. She was aware of how nondisabled Frida appeared. On the other hand, she felt the film was pretty good on politics - explicit in showing Frida and Diego's commitment to social concerns, to left-wing politics, no attempt to cover these up as in other American films.
S: I think those topics are safe now.
Disability as metaphor?
H: But getting back to Frida, in terms of her paintings, paintings of disability - people who are blind or so-called "lame" for example - have historically been used to evoke something else - they are often metaphors. In her disability paintings, is she painting her experience or using those images as metaphors for say the war, or her struggles with Rivera? My guess is that they probably go beyond her experience of disability.
S: They may have had other meanings, but it seems to me that she is largely painting her experience. That's the sense I have-the paintings are very much embodied, they are about the body. That's been my impression of her and her paintings all along. That's why I see such a strong contrast between hers and yours. Yours use the body-of course, what else is there to use -but they are about interactions. Even your self-portrait where you are looking in the mirror-we see both faces-so you're asking "Who am I to the world?"
No sense of discrimination
H: It's interesting, in the film, we don't have much sense of the social reactions to her disability. She doesn't seem to have trouble finding lovers, friends. She doesn't face any of the kind of discrimination that we face.
S: And whether that's true-it may be her association with Rivera gave her entree. Also, she's damned interesting looking and acting, and I'm sure it was an elite cultural scene in Mexico City in those days. She was part of a small sector of people who were sophisticated and had some money and some talent, and broader recognition as artists. Even her audacity in dancing with Tina Modotti at that first party, knowing "I can do this" was significant... We see her as enormously successful-she pulls it off. She even pulls it off in Paris with Josephine Baker. We don't see her ever doubting whether she could pull it off.
H: Her biography suggests she did pull a lot of this off. It's just hard to believe it was quite as carefree as the film shows.
Class eclipses disability
S: And there's a class issue too. She was part of an elite class-more culturally elite than moneyed elite-
H: And politically, she was part of the revolutionary movement, the communist movement. It was like a club, with camaraderie.
S: I think there are two questions I'd like to talk about. One is the way that class eclipses disability. The other is the way that disability is rendered exotic in some circles. Both questions are as relevant today as they were back then. If you are of a certain social strata, your limps and lisps are more accepted because your dominant presentation to the world is as an elite. In this case, it was the cultural elite, actually the counter-cultural elite, and therefore the quirkier the better. And the other question is that in a demimonde kind of world that is presented there, disability is sometimes made into the exotic. It's the dilemma that blacks have experienced and written about, something that I'm increasingly thinking about as a danger as we become more socially present. Similar to the way that someone from the dominant culture might want to invite a black person to their dinner party because it makes them seem liberal, and because the black figure is an exotic figure.
H: That's true sexually too. I'm thinking about how kinky sex is sometimes connected with disability, having a disabled partner.
S: So the individual becomes exoticized , eroticized and aestheticized and made into an object rather than a real person.
H: Yes, interesting point. Although there's no explicit evidence of this in the film, it may be under the surface.
S: But it seems clear that class worked in her behalf.
H: Class and her marriage to Rivera. Her marriage was a ticket. In that way, it was a somewhat traditional story. The husband becomes the ticket to acceptance.
S: What did you think about how the marriage, the relationship was portrayed?
The tie that binds...
H: I think it showed more tenderness in their relationship than I expected, which made Kahlo's decision to hang in despite his repeated betrayals more understandable. Whether or not it was true, the film showed a love and a tenderness for each other that was different from the stories and stereotypes I had heard about them.
S: There is this moment toward the end where he comes back to marry her again-
H: I can't say I quite understood how they got back together-or even why they divorced. But if you believe the Herrera biography, Kahlo used her deteriorating condition to keep Rivera bound to her. We don't see much evidence of that in the film. I feel a bit uneasy accepting that without knowing more about her - and about her biographer's stereotypes. For whatever problematic reasons they stay or don't stay together, Rivera does appear to encourage her as an artist. We don't see him undermining her or being jealous.
S: No, they each have their own workspace, they even lived in these separate houses with a bridge in between. She's working, he's working, that's the way they did things. And she was selling paintings and he didn't seem jealous of her success. Of course, in her day, she never got to be as successful as he did.
Mustache and all
S: She was ahead of her time, she painted so boldly-there was nothing "nice" about most of her paintings. She painted herself, mustache and all.
H: And her personal subject matter, that was also way ahead and quite feminist. It was the women artists who were bringing more personal material to their work-women's experiences, women's bodies-particularly during the 1970s.
S: Concerning role models for today's women, if just one young woman hears Frida ask her father: "Why don't you ask me what my plans are?" and it triggers for her the question: "Well, why doesn't my family expect me to get married?" or "Why doesn't my family expect me to have an important career?" or "Why does my family think I shouldn't be an actress?" or "Why do I think I shouldn't be an actress?" If that can stimulate one young person to ask these kinds of questions, then I think it's a good thing.
Reviews of the film
H: It's interesting that of the many reviews of the film, touching on most aspects, only one or two even commented on the issue of whether and how her disability was portrayed in the film. I think that makes a statement about how she is perceived by the media and how the media views disability.
S: There were some mentions of it. "Disability" usually appears in these reviews in a list of factors affecting her life. In some of these lists, disability appears as a physical phenomenon, a traditional view of "disability." In others, though, it is depicted as a social phenomenon.
For instance, the Village Voice review said: "Kahlo was female, Latina, disabled, bisexual, Communist, and even part Jewish." In that case, disability is another cultural identity. In The New York Times, the reviewer's use of "disability" might be read either way - as medical condition or as social condition. He notes: "But while Kahlo, at least in the account favored by Ms. Herrera and Ms. Taymor, refused to be constrained by her sex, social convention or disability...."
Some of the comments fall into unfortunate deterministic stereotypes of disability. The reviewer for the Smithsonian Magazine noted: "Despite her disabilities or, perhaps, to compensate for them, Kahlo became a tomboy." There are other comments that are plain awful. The e-zine Slate said: "Salma Hayek has such a lithe and riggly little body and is so revved up and raring to go that she doesn't convey much of the ugly physical paralysis of Frida's life."
H: I, too, felt that most of the reviews minimized or overlooked the portrayal of disability, as though this was not a significant part of her life or identity. The most striking exception was the review in the Houston Chronicle, a largely negative review for a host of reasons, including the underplay of disability: "Hayek shows Kahlo's vivaciousness before the accident by always running. After she recovers from the accident, the movie simply ignores her infirmities. Until near the end, the film treats the accident primarily as the vehicle for turning Kahlo into a painter." While this review was considerably more attuned to disability issues, it too included problematic disability language. Clearly, there's a lot of work to be done in educating all aspects of the media on disability.
Resources on Frida Kahlo
Frida Kahlo: Exposicion Homenaje. Exhibition Catalogue. Mexico City: Palacio del Belles Artes.
Fuentes, Carlos & Lowe, Sarah M. 1995. The Diary of Frida Kahlo. An Intimate Self-Portrait. New York: Harry N. Abrams, in association with La Vaca Independiente S.A. de C.V.
Garcia, Rupert. 1983. Frida Kahlo: A Bibliography and Biographic Introduction. Berkeley: University of California, Chicano Studies Library Publications Unit.
Hardin, Terri. 1997. Frida Kahlo: A Modern Master. New York: Smithmark.
Herrera, Hayden. 1983. Frida. A Biography of Frida Kahlo. New York: Harper & Row.
Herrera, Hayden. 1991. Frida Kahlo. The Paintings. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Jamis, Rauda. 1987. Frida Kahlo. Mexico, D. F.: Diana
Le Cezio, JMG. 1995. Diego y Frida. Mexico, D. F.: Diana
Lowe, Sarah M. 1991. Frida Kahlo. New York: Universe
Mujica, Barbara. 2001. Frida. A Novel Based on the Life of Frida Kahlo. New York: Plume/Penguin Putnam
Rivera, Diego. 1960. My Art, My Life. New York: Dover
Tibol, Raquel. 1983. Frida Kahlo: Una Vida Abierta. Mexico City: Editorial Oasis
Wolfe, Bertram D. 1969. The Fabulous Life of Diego Rivera. Chelsea, MI: Scarborough House.
Zamora, Martha. 1990. Frida Kahlo. The Brush of Anguish. San Francisco: Chronicle Books.
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