Word Out 2014

Frida and Diego by Catherine Reef

Reviewed by Wenting, age 19

Frida and Diego by Catherine Reef tells of the lives and work of Mexican artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera in a conversational, almost bantering tone that will appeal to many younger readers. As some may know, Frida Kahlo was an acclaimed modern painter whose works boldly expressed her physical and spiritual pain; her husband Diego Rivera was an established mural artist who created epic public works, many of which championed the Communist cause. Rife with quotations from both artists, as well as the words of their peers, Reef’s book captures a sense of their presence, and both artists’ emerge from the page as vibrant characters with larger-than-life personalities. Notably, there is (generally) a lack of judgment over the two artists’ failings, particularly when it comes to their unorthodox relationship with one another.

Subtitled “Art, Love, Life,” Reef’s book does indeed give readers a taste of all three subjects. Of these, perhaps what struck my interest the most were the dynamics of Kahlo and Rivera’s romance. From Frida’s famous paintings, such as the one where she weeps with an image of Diego’s face visible on her forehead, I was aware that her marriage to Diego caused her much heartache. However, it surprised me to learn that both Diego and Frida were complicit in hurting one another during their relationship. As Reef explains, both carried out affairs with other people while married—and while damaging to their marriage, their straying also led to some utterly fascinating liaisons. One of Rivera’s affairs occurred with Frida’s own sister, while Kahlo was involved with Russian Marxist revolutionary Leon Trotsky while he was living under Rivera’s protection. Such a tangled web as Rivera and Kahlo created offers great potential for interesting reading material, but Reef doesn’t give much detail beyond the essential facts. As a sordidly fascinating subject, the artists’ affairs with others could do with more of Reef’s insight and still remain appropriate for the book’s young audience.

Another area that Reef hints at, but doesn’t fully explore, is the allure Rivera seems to exert over women. Frida, despite the emphasis her paintings place upon her single eyebrow and mustache, is an unmistakable beauty. On the other hand, looking through the book’s photographs of Diego (who is flattened into an unflattering, two-dimensional likeness described by many as akin to that of a giant “frog”), it is slightly baffling to think of the great number of eligible women he took on as lovers. Looks are of course inconsequential, but given Rivera’s reputation as an unfaithful lover, I think more explanation is required here. It’s certainly fodder for thought.

Aside from photographs of Rivera’s large and round likeness, a great deal of other photographs support Reef’s text. There are pictures from the artists’ childhoods, of their shared lives, and of their artwork. It would have been nice to see even more pictures of the art, though interested readers can likely find ways to Google the pieces that aren’t published in the book. Helpfully, for those unfamiliar with reading into artwork (or those simply baffled by why Frida, in one of her paintings, appears in double, with her heart exposed, and blood on her skirt), Reef offers interpretations of Kahlo and Diego’s choice of imagery and symbolism. Reef also points out instances in which Kahlo and Diego appear in one another’s work, sometimes overtly, other times hidden as a face in the crowd.

Overall a quick and engaging read, Frida and Diego gives a wide-ranging overview of two notable twentieth-century artists that might encourage readers to look further into the stories of their intriguing lives.