101: Introduction & Frida with Family

Frida with Family (detail), 1926, Guillermo Kahlo (Mexican, born Germany, 1871–1941), gelatin silver print. Private Collection

Welcome to VMFA and the exhibition Frida: Beyond the Myth. This exhibition is dedicated to exploring the life and work of Frida Kahlo, one of the most memorable artists of the 20th century. This audio guide encourages careful observation of key works in the exhibition that reveal important events and experiences in Kahlo’s life. These moments impacted her creativity and the construction of her identity. You will hear quotes from the artist herself and others to gain a better understanding of her as an individual—beyond the myth.

This audio guide consists of 9 stops that follow the chronology of the artist’s life and is offered in Spanish as well as English. Each stop is indicated by an audio symbol on the label next to a work of art.

If you are using an audio wand, input the stop number located on the label next to the audio symbol.

If you are using your mobile device, scan the QR code on the label and scroll through the tour to find the correct stop.

In addition to the information contained within this guide, be sure to pay attention to the large wall text panels that introduce each gallery and the labels that accompany most objects—these will provide additional context for artwork we will explore.

Our first stop is a photograph of Frida Kahlo with her family when she was about 19 years old. This work can be found at the back of the first gallery. Kahlo Family Portrait shows the artist with her extended family including her uncle, aunt, sister and cousin. Her mother is seated in the center and her sister Cristina sits to her right. Kahlo stands on the far left in a man’s suit with her arm resting on her uncle’s shoulder.

Notably, her father is absent from the group because he is the one capturing this portrait. Guillermo Kahlo was a successful portrait photographer who involved Frida in his artistic practice from a young age, inviting her to his studio where she would sometimes assist him. Kahlo’s observation of her father’s work can be seen in her future approach to portraiture including her choice to depict figures with an unsmiling and direct gaze. In a diary entry, Kahlo reflected that her father “was an immense example to me of tenderness, of work ([as a] photographer and a painter) and above all, understanding for all my problems.”

The feeling was mutual with her father stating that, “Frida is the most intelligent of all my daughters, she is the most like me.” This bond between father and daughter is evident in the photo through Kahlo’s pose and choice of outfit. She wears her father’s three-piece suit, conveying a masculine identity that was considered radical in Mexico at the time. Her casual stance with a hand in one pocket along with her serious expression, present a self-assured individual comfortable with her choices.

Continue to the next gallery to see Kahlo’s first self-portrait and explore how she chose to depict herself as someone committed to an artistic career.

102: Self-Portrait in Velvet Dress

Self-Portrait in a velvet dress (detail), 1926, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907–1954), oil on canvas. Private Collection © 2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Kahlo painted this work while recovering from her injuries sustained in a bus accident, which will be discussed in the next stop. She gifted this self-portrait to her boyfriend, Alejendro Gomez Arias, who was also in the accident. While convalescing from her injuries, she frequently wrote to him, begging him to visit her. Unfortunately, he began to distance himself from her during this time due to concerns from his family about caring for a wife who would have lifelong health challenges, so they sent him to travel abroad. A broken-hearted Kahlo wrote to him in a letter, “Within a few days the portrait will be at your house. Forgive me for sending it without a frame. I implore you to put it in a low place as if you are looking at me.” She seems to suggest that he could see her through the painting and be closer to her.

Look closely at how Kahlo presents herself. The dark tones of the portrait, including the deep red of her robe, the navy-blue waves in the background, and the black of her hair, all suggest a somber and serious demeanor. However, she also shows her sensual side through the plunging neckline, plump lips, and tilt of her head, perhaps reminding Arias of their attraction to one another. In this work, Kahlo declares herself as a serious artist by referencing well-known European painters and styles that she studied. The swirling lines of the background and the elongated fingers of her hand recall the graceful style of Renaissance artists, like Sandro Boticelli. In fact, she would later nickname this painting in a letter to Arias, her “Botticelli”. Although her artistic style would evolve, as well as her choices of how to present herself, this work shows a confident artist willing to share herself with others.

Now, look behind the wall you are standing in front of to learn more about the accident that propelled Kahlo into a life fueled by artistic creation.

103: The Accident

The Accident (detail), 1926, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907-1954), pencil on paper. Private Collection © 2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

On September 17, 1925, Kahlo was riding home with her boyfriend Alejandro Gomez Arias, when a trolley car collided with their bus. Kahlo recalled later “It was a strange collision. It was not violent but rather silent, slow, and it harmed everybody. And me most of all.” Kahlo suffered extensive injuries, including a fractured spine, broken ribs and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, crushed right foot, multiple fractures to her right leg and was impaled by an iron handrail. Doctors did not expect her to survive. These injuries would affect her physically and mentally for the rest of her life. A year after the accident, she created this pencil drawing recalling the events of that day, like pieces of memory that return after trauma.

Her figure lies bandaged in the foreground on a stretcher inscribed with “Red Cross,” the hospital to which she was brought by the ambulance. The accident claimed the lives of several other riders, and she illustrates their bodies strewn in the background. Kahlo depicts that actual collision with graphic detail, noting the perpendicular point of contact between the two vehicles. Perhaps the most devastating detail of the drawing is the mangled pieces of iron floating in the bus. This alludes to the worst of her injuries—the iron handrail that pierced her body, entering through her abdomen and exiting her pelvis.

The accident and her time recuperating led Kahlo to become a mature painter. Before this event, she aspired to study medicine and become a doctor. Afterward, during the long months of recuperation, she was forced to lie in bed, completely still and mostly alone. She once said “I paint myself because I am so often alone. I am the subject I know best.” A mirror was installed above her bed, and her family had an easel created so she could paint while lying on her back. Painting was part of Kahlo’s battle for life—an act of self-creation and a way to control her world.

In the next gallery, we will examine a work that is both a portrait and self-portrait in one.

104: Diego and Frida

Diego and Frida 1929-1944 (detail), 1944, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907-1954), oil on masonite with original painted shell frame. Private Collection, Courtesy of Galeria Arvil, Mexico

“I suffered two grave accidents in my life. One in which a streetcar knocked me down… the other accident is Diego. Diego was the worst by far.”

This quote, like the image in front of us, captures the complexity of Kahlo’s relationship with muralist Diego Rivera—a connection marked by both profound love and immense pain. Despite a relationship filled with hardships, including an affair between Rivera and Kahlo’s sister, Cristina, they shared passions and interests that often brought them together—like their dedication to art and love for their Mexican heritage. Kahlo and Rivera met in 1928, married in 1929, divorced in 1939, only to remarry the following year. This deeply personal work was created in 1944 as a tribute to their 15-year relationship—notice their names and the dates at the top of the frame.

In this work, Kahlo and Rivera are shown intertwined, their faces and necks bound by a barren vine, forming contrasting halves of a whole. Kahlo’s expression seems marked by sorrow, while Rivera’s face appears faintly smiling—highlighting their emotional disconnect. Kahlo also portrayed Rivera without an ear, a possible reference that he is deaf to her needs and desires.

The duality of this painting also recalls themes and symbols in Indigenous Mexican history and art—something both artists admired. In the early 20th century, Aztec heritage was often embraced as a symbol of national pride, in reaction to the lasting effects of Spanish colonialism and the growing influence of the United States. Kahlo was known for wearing traditional jewelry and using indigenous symbols, closely identifying with this Aztec legacy. Two of these symbols can be seen to the right of the figures—the moon and the sun. This pair symbolizes unity but also the passage of time. Kahlo frequently used these symbols in her work, evoking their traditional associations with both feminine and masculine traits—the moon, calm and serene, much like Kahlo’s expression—the sun aggressive and powerful with spikey rays—perhaps how Kahlo saw Rivera’s personality.

The painting’s seashell-encrusted frame was designed by Kahlo and further enhances its significance, resembling a religious relic or icon. Seashells traditionally represent love and fertility and might here remind us of a life together marked by passion and sorrow.

As you explore the piece, note how these symbols are woven throughout—all chosen by Kahlo to convey a story of a complicated life with Rivera. On our next stop we’ll explore how Kahlo’s travels with Rivera greatly influenced the content and style of her work—specifically her thoughts on the United States.

105: My Dress Hangs There (My Dress Was There Hanging [New York])

My Dress Hangs There (detail), 1933, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907–1954), oil and collage on masonite. Private Collection © 2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Following their marriage, Kahlo travelled with Rivera to New York during the height of the Great Depression. Kahlo reflected in a letter that, “high society here turns me off and I feel a bit of rage against all these rich guys here, since I have seen thousands of people in the most terrible misery without anything to eat and with no place to sleep,” Kahlo’s criticism of the U.S. is evident in this crowded and complex work titled, My Dress Hangs There. She began this work in 1933 and did not finish it until 1938, continually adding to it over the years.

Kahlo’s unique, urban landscape of New York includes Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty visible in the top central portion of the painting while skyscrapers repeat in the center. Looking closer, she has included symbols that represent elements of American society that she despised. The columned building in the center of the work is Federal Hall on Wall Street. This building is linked to organized religion by a red thread leading to Trinity church in the upper left-hand corner. Notice the dollar sign woven around the front of the church—these elements combine to represent the corrupt nature of American finance. In front of Trinity Church is a billboard of Mae West, a prominent performer and celebrity of the time, looking down on crowds in breadlines spanning the newly constructed George Washington Bridge. Between the elite and the poorest of America is a burning building, with roaring flames and billowing smoke. Kahlo stated in a letter that, “it is terrifying to see the rich having parties day and night while thousands and thousands of people are dying of hunger.”

In the center of the image, Kahlo’s traditional, Mexican Tehuana dress is suspended between two pillars holding a toilet and a trophy—these may reference the misplaced priorities of wealthy Americans as they obsessed over the convenience of modern plumbing and competitive sports. As she spent more time in the US, often feeling out of place and homesick, Frida used fashion to stand out from all that she found distasteful and elitist, adopting traditional dresses of the indigenous, Zapotec women. Frida hangs her dress above the masses as to show her sympathy for the common working people suffering during the Great Depression. The inclusion of the garment, along with the title of the work, suggests Kahlo’s yearning to return to her home in Mexico.

When this work was completed in 1938 it was included in an exhibition in New York organized by Andre Breton, the leader of the French Surrealist movement. Breton reflected upon Kahlo’s subversiveness in this work in the accompanying exhibition catalog by stating that “the paintings of Frida Kahlo are a ribbon tied around a bomb.”

At our next stop we’ll see another example of how Kahlo challenged expectations of society by creating a shocking memorial portrait.

106: The Suicide of Dorothy Hale

The Suicide of Dorothy Hale (detail), 1939, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907-1954), oil on masonite with hand-painted frame. Collection of Phoenix Art Museum; Gift of an anonymous donor

In 1938, Kahlo met Clare Booth Luce, the managing editor of the magazine Vanity Fair at her exhibition in New York. Luce’s close friend, Dorothy Hale, a struggling film and stage actress, had recently died by suicide after jumping from the 16th floor window of her apartment building in New York. Kahlo suggested to Luce that she commission a recuerdo, or a memory painting of Hale. Luce, familiar with Kahlo’s work, initially envisioned a traditional portrait of the actress for Hale’s mother. Instead, the resulting work seen here titled, The Suicide of Dorothy Hale, is a graphic illustration of Hale’s fall to her death.

Hale can be seen three times. First as a tiny figure falling from the 16th floor window, then floating through the clouds, and finally dead in a pool of blood. The red surrounding Hale’s face is repeated in the inscription at the bottom of the composition. Translated it reads, “In the city of New York on the 21st day of October at 6 o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Dorothy Hale committed suicide by throwing herself out of a very high window of the Hampshire House building. This retablos was painted in her memory by Frida Kahlo.” You may notice that some words have been painted over. Luce’s name was recorded here as the original commissioner of the piece, but she was so shocked by the work, she requested her name be removed. In fact, friends had to convince her not to destroy the painting. Luce recalled in an interview “I will always remember the shock I had when I pulled it from the crate. I felt physically sick. What was I going to do with this gruesome painting… I would not have such a gory picture of my worst enemy, much less my unfortunate friend.”

Later, Luce realized she did not understand what Kahlo was offering to her when she suggested the recuerdo. This type of narrative work was common in Mexico and many Latin American countries and was typically requested after a tragic event as a tribute to the deceased. While Kahlo believed she was honoring Hale, her best intentions were not understood by the upper-class New York audience.

Continue to the next gallery to examine the work of another artist who was inspired to capture Kahlo’s image using his camera.

107: Frida on White Bench

Frida on White Bench (detail), New York, 1939, Nickolas Muray (American, born Hungary, 1892–1965), carbon pigment print. Private Collection © Nickolas Muray Photo Archives, Licensed by Nickolas Muray Photo Archives

This photograph, titled Frida on a White Bench was taken by the Hungarian-born photographer Nickolas Muray whom Kahlo met in the early 1930’s and had an affair with until 1939. Throughout their friendship, Muray captured almost 90 images of Kahlo some of which can be seen in this gallery. In addition, Muray filmed Kahlo and friends at her home in Mexico. Take a moment to view this footage featured nearby.

Kahlo and Muray exchanged letters during their time apart which record their affection for each other. In one letter, Kahlo wrote, “My adorable Nick—I really shouldn’t complain about anything that happens to me in life, as long as you love me and I love you. It is so real and beautiful, that makes me forget all pains and troubles, makes me forget even distance. Your words made me feel so close to you that I can feel near me your laugh. That laugh so clean and honest that only you have.”

In this color photograph, a medium which Muray mastered, Kahlo is set against vivid green, floral wallpaper that echoes the design of the metal bench on which she sits. Kahlo is dressed in her characteristic Tehauna attire with jewelry and an elaborate hairstyle crowned with pink flowers. Kahlo’s level gaze at the camera, and Muray behind it, speaks to the affection between the two as well as the collaborative spirit in which the image was constructed. Although their romantic relationship ended in 1939, they continued to be very close friends and collaborators. Towards the end of their relationship, Frida wrote in a letter, “I adore you my love, believe me, like I never loved anyone—only Diego will be in my heart as close as you—always…”

As you continue to the next gallery you will find one of Kahlo’s later self-portraits that allows us to understand how even through physical pain and extensive medical procedures she continued to paint and create.

108: Self-Portrait with Loose Hair

Self-Portrait with Loose Hair (detail), 1947, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907–1954), oil on masonite. Private Collection © 2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

This work, Self-Portrait with Loose Hair was painted in 1947, seven years before Kahlo’s death. The last decade of her life was marked by lengthy hospital stays, surgeries, and an increasing restriction of independent movement as she relied more upon spine-straightening corsets and bedrest to recuperate. In a letter to a friend, Kahlo recounted “I have been sick a year… I am still in a wheelchair, and I do not know if soon I will be able to walk again. I have a plaster cast, which, in spite of being a frightful bore, helps my spine feel better. I do not have pains. Only a weariness… and as is natural, often desperation. A desperation that no words can describe. Nevertheless, I want to live.”

Despite her physical decline, Kahlo continued to create. Here, she chose to present herself with her hair unbound and unadorned, falling over her left shoulder filling the right side of the composition. Balancing this is a sprig of succulents in the upper lefthand corner, known as a burro’s tail, which is a plant native to Mexico. Kahlo is dressed in a vibrant orange and yellow dress with geometric patterns lining the neckline and continuing down the sides.

Along the bottom of the painting and in front of Kahlo is a scroll with the inscription which when translated it reads “Here I painted myself, Frida Kahlo, with my reflection in the mirror. I am 37 years old and this is July, 1947. In Coyoacán, Mexico, the place where I was born.” Kahlo was technically 40 years old when she created this painting, as she continued to conflate her birth year with the start of the Mexican Revolution in 1910. Self-Portrait with Loose Hair presents a stoic and unflinching Kahlo during this bleak time in her life. Her steady gaze into the mirror to create the work has captured a resolute and determined image of the artist who despite her physical limitations, continued to produce art.

Our last stop will focus on how Kahlo began painting more still-lifes at the end of her life and consider how the use of objects allowed her to paint more comfortably while simultaneously reflect on her own mortality.

109: Still Life (I Belong to Samuel Fastlicht)

Still Life (I Belong to Samuel Fastlicht) (detail), 1951, Frida Kahlo (Mexican, 1907–1954), oil on masonite. Private Collection, Courtesy Galeria Arvil, Mexico © 2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

You may have noticed on your way to this stop a terracotta sculpture of a dog from the ancient Colima Culture of West Mexico. Kahlo collected similar terracotta sculptures, and the one you can see reflected in this work. She had a deep affection for this type of dog—the Mexican hairless dog, known as xoloitzcuintli. The breed’s name comes from the Aztec language: Xólotl, the god of death, and itzcuintli, meaning dog. She named her favorite pet “Mr. Xólotl” after the Aztec deity believed to guide souls to the underworld. You can see a sketch of Mr. Xolotl nearby. In her later years she included more images of dogs, which in her world carried profound meaning.

Here Kahlo has also filled the canvas with a lush assortment of tropical fruits including papayas, and a sliced watermelon, all depicted with rich color and detail. While this might appear to be a simple still life on the surface, Kahlo infused it with deeply personal symbolism, conveying messages about her life and identity. This painting was created toward the end of Kahlo’s life, a time when her health was deteriorating, and her need for care was intensifying. It was during this time she turned to still life painting and they account for over half of her artistic production during this period. The various subjects were always close at hand, and she didn’t have to worry about her appearance when painting still-lifes.

Kahlo’s choice of fruits also has symbolic significance. She often used fruit in her still lifes to express themes of vitality and sensuality, but also vulnerability and mortality. The watermelon slice, which appears in several of her paintings, is a traditional symbol in Mexican culture, often associated with themes of life and death. Here, it seems to underscore her connection to her heritage as well as her awareness of life’s fragility. Kahlo also added a small Mexican flag in the back, further making a connection to her heritage.

Let’s focus on the other flag inserted into the melon. It reads, Yo soy de Samuel Fastlicht or I belong to Samuel Fastlicht. Fastlicht was a close friend of Kahlo’s and a prominent Mexican dentist and art collector. This painting is one of two that Kahlo agreed to paint for him in 1951 in exchange for dental work. Take a few moments to appreciate the colors and textures in this deeply personal painting that gives a glimpse into how Kahlo transformed her experiences into art, blending together her life and identity.

Thank you for joining us today at VMFA for Frida: Beyond the Myth. We hope you have enjoyed learning more about Frida Kahlo’s life and art. Before you leave, don’t miss the opportunity in the last room to explore two ways Kahlo chose to create portraits and consider creating one yourself. We hope to see you at the museum again soon!