When I read that artist Leonora Carrington died yesterday, I realized I knew very little about her work. Her name sounded familiar to me, but I could not recall much else. I immediately wanted to get familiar, at least to some degree.
I'm not particularly smitten by surrealistic art, although I do like some of the work by Rene Magritte, Salvador Dali, Max Ernst (with whom Ms. Carrington had a long term relationship), and even a little bit of Frida Kahlo, who doesn't seem to fit entirely into that school of painting. I'm not sure where Frida fits, but that's for another discussion.
Anyway, Leonora Carrington was British born, moving to Mexico sometime in the 1960's after many tumultuous years in Europe. She remained in Mexico until she crossed the bridge yesterday. No, not that bridge, the one across forever.
While looking online at images of her work, I found the photographs of her even more appealing. I'm a big romantic when it comes to people who find their way in the world through the creative process, who live outside the norm, walking somewhere on the razor's edge. This woman certainly did, in both painting and sculpting, as well as writing novels. I have to say, her sculpture speaks to me more than her paintings. There's something about this wise, deer-like being in robes I really like.
Which brings me, in some roundabout fashion, to a conversation I had last night with my sister, Chris, who lives in Texas Hill Country. I was telling her about my ongoing struggle to whip my gardens into shape and that I was feeling a bit under the gun as sister Judy, who has beautiful flower gardens, will be stopping by this weekend. I told her, "My flower beds will never look like Judy's." She replied, with what passes for compassion in a family with a robust sense of humor, "Well, no, she's Martha Stewart and you're Frida Kahlo."
The top two paintings are by Leonora Carrington.
The two photographs are of Ms. Carrington, as well.
The bottom image is a self-portrait of Frida Kahlo.