A great artist can speak from beyond the grave. At least, that’s how Vanessa Severo feels about the iconic Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. This playwright and performer feels so compelled by Kahlo that she tries to become her in “Frida…. A Self Portrait,” a one woman show playing at Geva Theatre Center through November 12.
The audience is greeted by a giant bed frame shaped like a tomb, a stunning set designed by Jacqueline Penrod that alludes to how much of Kahlo’s life was spent ill in bed. Three clotheslines stretch across the stage, holding dresses, suits, shirts, belts, and blankets – an array of patterned costumes designed by Katherine Davis that become Severo’s supporting cast.
The premise is deceptively simple: Frida Kahlo is being interviewed by an architect magazine interested in her house, the Casa Azul. The home comes alive through blue lights, ambient sounds of birds, and atmospheric piano and string music. The most interesting feature, though, is the artist herself: “I am the brain of this house,” she declares. Her interviewer is represented only by an empty spotlight, but Severo pulls shirts and suits from the clothesline to help enact other characters from Kahlo’s memory, including her German father, the doctor who used her injuries as a spectacle for medical students, and her husband and fellow artist Diego Rivera. In one particularly clever moment, Severo wraps herself in Diego’s suit, simultaneously portraying Frida and Diego comforting Frida.
The one-act show, directed by Joanie Schultz, premiered in Kansas City in 2019 and has played in three other cities. It’s a well-conceived show that requires no background knowledge of Kahlo, though familiarity with some of her art (especially “The Two Fridas”) is rewarded through theatrical references.
A one-woman show is only as strong as its lead, and Severo is marvelous. She masterfully embodies each new character through voice, body language, and movement. Even her warm front-of-house announcement captivates. “Do you see a Frida Kahlo in me?” she asks, then shares the origins of the show. She got hooked on Frida after reading a quote that felt like the artist was speaking directly to her: “I used to think I must be the strangest person in the world,” it begins, and concludes with comfort to outsiders: “I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.” The show comes full circle when Severo later repeats the quote in character as Frida.
Her performance is so impressive that I hate to poke holes in the show. But the thing is – according to Buzzfeed News, this quote about feeling strange can actually be traced to a PostSecret blog submission written in 2008. The fact that the entire show is framed around a quote misattributed to Frida Kahlo does not take away from the power of Severo’s theatricality. But it does highlight something the show hints at, but doesn’t fully embrace: despite the title, this is not about Frida Kahlo. It’s about Severo’s perception of Frida.
No biographical piece can cover every aspect of someone’s life, but this performance leaves out some of the obvious. Kahlo’s communist politics (and affair with Soviet politician Leon Trotsky) go untouched, and there’s only a subtle reference to her bisexuality. Severo’s eyebrows are bushy but not a unibrow, and she has no mustache.
The play covers the tragic biographical highlights, including a gruesome trolley accident, several miscarriages, and her husband’s affair with her sister. The uniting element is her pain, both physical and emotional. Frida repeatedly becomes overwhelmed by physical pain during her interview and needs to inject herself with morphine. Pain also becomes expressed through striking changes in the light, effectively designed by Rachel Cady, and the haunting sound design by Thomas Dixon.
Despite the focus on suffering, it’s no downer: the 75 minutes are filled with movement, color, and humor. The language is poetic and engaging, including a sprinkling of Spanish and delightful quotes (correctly) attributed to Kahlo, such as, “I tried to drown my sorrows but the bastards learned to swim.” Severo balances convincing expressions of suffering with lighter beats of impeccable comedic delivery (such as her very funny explanation of why men grow beards).
The most moving moments are the too-rare parts when Severo breaks away from Frida to play a version of herself. Early in the show, she calls attention to the congenital lack of fingers on her left hand, which resulted in objectification from doctors; later she discloses problems between her parents that echo Kahlo’s marital woes.
Is there a Frida Kahlo in Vanessa Severo? I don’t know enough to say. But this self-portrait allows Severo, who is from Brazil, to put herself in Frida, having Frida reminisce on the untranslatable Portuguese word “saudade.” Severo has painted her own story defiantly and vibrantly, which is exactly what Frida would want – or at least, what Severo’s version of her would want.
Katherine Varga is a freelance contributor to CITY. Feedback about this article can be directed to leah@rochester-citynews.com.
This article appears in Oct 1-31, 2023.
