Frida Kahlo

You ask if I know Lucienne Bloch? Of course I do! She is a funny one, Lucienne. The first time Diego brought her into the studio in Detroit, I was not happy. I remember thinking, “oh great, that gordo brought another one of his women.” But Lucienne proved me wrong. I did not like the United States. I was not in a good place when we first arrived, and I did not do any better during our first months. I lost another baby… another Dieguito. And then my mamá… 

And yet, Lucienne was there by my side. Grinding paints for Diego while cooking for me. She cooks like hell. Her food is not fit for a dog. It does not matter. I would eat her food any time, any day. Lucienne gave me back my spark. I was not painting anymore, and she changed that. When I left the hospital, she and I did some lithographs together. Who puts someone fresh out of the hospital to do that? Lucienne did, and we had a marvelous time together. We did all kinds of crazy mistakes and all sorts of experiments. And just like that, I got back into painting. Lucienne made me feel the need to go back to the canvas.

But suddenly the projects were over, and we had to go back to México. That was in 1933. A couple of years later, I saw Lucienne one more time, during a trip to New York for my solo exhibition, in 1938. She was now living in the city and had begun working for a relief program, the WPA. She said a social worker had found her because they were looking for a fresco painter who's a woman. And who else was a fresco painter who's a woman and who lives in New York City? She had to be on home relief for the job, though –a sordid thing. I remember how upset she got at the mere mention of it. But Lucienne was very young and she wanted to paint so badly, that she accepted. I don’t know if I would have taken that job, but I’m glad Lucienne did. Not for the project, but for herself. She did wonderful murals: one for a prison [the House of Detention for Women], and another one for a school [the George Washington High School]. "You don't just paint decorations. We are not wall painters or wallpaper painters. We have to give a message," that’s what Diego used to tell her all the time. And that’s exactly what Lucienne did in those murals: she put important lessons into them. For what I’ve heard, Lucienne’s murals, aside from Diego’s, are the only frescos painted during that time that, to this day, haven’t cracked. The experience also gave her confidence. She learned how to talk to people, how to convince them to accept her ideas. During our last conversation, Lucienne expressed how she wished there were more government-sponsored projects for the arts and that they should not do them on the basis of poverty but instead based on the quality of the artist's work and with those who have experience in technique. 

After that trip, I went back home, and I never saw Lucienne ever again. I cannot travel anymore. I can barely paint. Even if I could, I don’t think I’ll want to go back to the United States. I don’t miss America. But I will always miss Lucienne, and I will remember her.”