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Végre eljött a pillanat: New Yorkban megnyílik Frida Kahlo első önálló kiállítása – és elsöprő sikert arat, Manhattan művészvilága őt ünnepli. Ekkor találkozik a magyar fényképésszel, Nickolas Muray-vel, és szenvedélyes szerelem szövődik köztük. Miután művészként kilépett hűtlen férje, Diego árnyékából, Frida a szerelemben is a saját érzéseit akarja követni.

Frida Kahlo was ahead of her time. She was bisexual and would have fit in perfectly in the time we live in now. Her disabilities would be acceptable in our society of today and her husband, Diego would probably be run out of town by the Real Housewives of “Cheaters”. Frida came with a lot of baggage in her life starting when she was only six years old and even more baggage piled on when she was in high school. Her suffering was more than anyone can imagine but she kept her head held high and forged her way forward.

Going to the Frida Kahlo exhibition current at Tate Modern in London is like entering the shrine of a secular saint. The rooms are thronged. People peer closely at the paintings, many of them very small. They seem afraid to talk much above a whisper. There are a number of reasons for this reaction. One is Hayden Herrera’s highly readable biography of the artist, first published in 1983, and now established as a classic feminist text. Another is the feminist movement’s general need for heroines, which has had a similar effect on the posthumous reputation of Georgia O’Keeffe. A third, probably the most powerful, reason is Kahlo’s own personality, which combined self-assertion, defiance and masochism in almost equal proportions. In this respect Kahlo can be compared with a slightly later generation of English-language poets, male and female. Prominent among them are Robert Lowell, John Berryman, Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton.