Frida Kali will come printed on museum-quality canvas with archival inks. Hand-signed, numbered, and embellished by BUA. It will also include a certificate of authenticity.
I’ve always loved Frida. Her art, style, passion, and raw artist spirit. To me, she is one of the most important painters in the canon of art history. She was an original—a trailblazer—and in blurring the lines of art imitating life and vice versa, she embodied the ways of a true artist. There have been thousands of renditions of Frida, from her husband, Diego Rivera, to contemporaries and modern-day street masters... but none have been as successful as her own self-portraits. Through those representations, we feel her pain and suffering in the telling depth of her glare, forever etched into my own eyes, reflecting what we see even in this day of a troubled world.
Not an easy task, to express an original sentiment about FRIDA. Try as I might say what hasn’t been said before, or convey a feeling however rare that she so easily evoked, it seemed like an impossibility. That is, until I happened upon almost a calling from the Hindu goddess Kali, exclaiming “BUA, Frida is a feminist icon like myself, with many gifts, virtues, powers, and personalities!” before a slew of parallels and the rest of my impressions fell into place.
Kali’s instantly recognizable iconography, cult, and mythology, like Frida’s, associate her with death, sexuality, violence, and paradoxically in some later traditions, with motherly love.
KHALO and KALI were naturally bonded in my mind, but whether any artist has made such a conclusion before is unknown to me. Frida, like Kali, possesses the archetypal essence of the goddess – the warrior goddess, destroyer of evil forces—in Frida’s case, perhaps her own demons. Since the late 20th century, feminist scholars and writers in the United States have seen Kali as a symbol of womens’ empowerment, while members of New Age movements have found theologically and sexually liberating inspiration in her more carnal manifestations. Although Kali is fictional and Khalo was flesh and bone, both are tethered to supernaturally maternal strengths.
In these times especially, I’d encourage women and men to revisit both of these figures of the sovereignty of feminine spirit, and draw from the “hell hath no fury” persistence embedded in art, for the inspiration that has always driven home the most impactful generational messages.