Frida Kahlo
On Thursday evening I was wandering around in the La Latina district when I happened upon a flamenco bar that another student recommended to me just as the show was about to start. La Cueva de Lola is situated below street level in the basement of the building. The ceilings are coved with brick, which does indeed give it the look of a wine cellar, if not a cave. I was seated (with a bunch of other foreigners, amazing how we're so easy to spot) to the side of the stage, which was actually a great view. A small company composed of the guitarrist, two dancers and a singer performed well; the female dancer was truly good, communicating a range of emotion and becoming more filled with energy and joy toared the end.
What I love about flamenco -- one of the things I love -- is its improvisatory moments. In most performances they present choreographed numbers, but the last number featuring the primary dancer always has a large portion of improvisation. As a former improvisor I love watching these moments and revel with the performer in the creation of art in the moment.
Today, Saturday, I was awakened from an early afternoon nap by a very loud demonstration that was taking place on Gran Via -- a short block away. I had a ticket to a 2:00 pm admission to the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the Casa de México, so I got up and got dressed. Looking down the block I could see that the parade or "manifestación" was still going strong on Gran Via, a major 4-lane street, and knew the buses would be affected. Luckily a free taxi happened by just then.
When I got to the exhibition (the Casa de Mêxico, a cultural center, is shown above with decorations for Día de los Muertos) realized my ticket was for 11:00 a.m., not 2:00 pm. I put on my most ingratiating dumb-American look and said "Olvidé la hora" (I forgot the time) almost effortlessly, which is a sign that my Spanish is starting to take hold. (I also told the taxi driver, when he excused the jammed traffic by saying something about the manifestación, "Sí, escuché" (Yes, I heard it) which I was proud of because I conjugated the verb correctly in the past tense. Progress!)
I don't need to say much about Frida Kahlo, everyone knows her story and her work. I was thrilled to see pages from her journal -- her art journal, as it might be called today, as the pages consist not of writing but of doodles and sketches, much like that of my beloved Anna.
