At the shrine of Frida

Frida Kahlo (1907–54) is apparently the most famous female artist in history (who is the nearest competitor, I wonder — Grandma Moses or Paula Rego? Probably not Artemisia Gentileschi), and as such, with a recent feature film dedicated to her legend, a hot commercial property. The merchandising angle alone is substantial. There’s never been a solo exhibition of her work in England, so, with her reputation at an all-time high, a show becomes a viable and desirable museum proposition. Yet Kahlo is such a cult figure (‘bohemian artist, a victim turned survivor, proto-feminist, sexual adventurer who challenged gender boundaries’) that the Tate exhibition pamphlet makes this extraordinary statement: ‘First and foremost, Frida Kahlo was a painter, and for this reason Tate Modern’s exhibition focuses upon the frank testimony of the paintings themselves.’ Almost as if the art were a lamentable expedient, but would have to do in the regrettable absence of the star herself.