Frida K.
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A Tarragon Theater presentation of a play in one act by Gloria Montero. Directed by Peter Hinton. Sets and costumes, Ken Garnhum.
Cast: Allegra Fulton (Frida Kahlo). Frida K., Gloria Montero's play about Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, embraces a like-me-if-you-dare/ignore-me-if-you-can attitude that is both gutsy and arrogant, a kind of defiance that demystifies a myth-in-the-making. Depending on whom you listen to, Kahlo is either revered for her outspoken, left-wing, anti-intellectual stance, her tortured paintings and her partnership with the great Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, or she's an overrated talent, a parasite clinging to a great artist and making her reputation on his (or her) back. The strength of Montero's play and the hugely charismatic performance by Allegra Fulton is that neither has chosen a one-sided approach. Their Frida is complex, haunted, nasty, grasping, hurting, passionate and above all, immensely alive. Whatever Kahlo (1907-1954) may have contributed to the world of contemporary art with her personal symbolism, often expressed in stark, anatomically precise self-portraits, or her brand of egoism, the production depicts a woman to be reckoned with. The snippets of her life her terrible accidents, Rivera's womanizing, her affair with Leon Trotsky spill on top of one another, the narrative driven by the harrowing events themselves. And Fulton, the playwrights daughter, gives a vital, glowing performing that spares us nothing.
In a husky voice and Spanish accent that sounds completely real, she gnaws at Frida's inner anguish, spitting out obscenities and observations with equal fervor and pausing only rarely for a quiet moment. At times she sings Spanish civil war songs, at others she sobs or rants, but the most poignant and memorable image is of Frida, having just gored a watermelon to demonstrate the pain of her abortion, with red melon liquid pouring down the front of her white, floor-length skirt. Most of the show takes place in an adobe-style structure, the walls adorned with a Madonna and a huge skeleton. Performance artist Ken Garnhum has brought his particular quirky style to a design that beautifully complements the artist's tortured and tortuous life; it features earth colors splashed with vibrant, glaring primaries. This production (with Off Broadway intentions) may not be the final word on Kahlo, but it is an honest and penetrating work with a dynamic, exciting actor.Cast: Allegra Fulton (Frida Kahlo). Frida K., Gloria Montero's play about Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, embraces a like-me-if-you-dare/ignore-me-if-you-can attitude that is both gutsy and arrogant, a kind of defiance that demystifies a myth-in-the-making. Depending on whom you listen to, Kahlo is either revered for her outspoken, left-wing, anti-intellectual stance, her tortured paintings and her partnership with the great Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, or she's an overrated talent, a parasite clinging to a great artist and making her reputation on his (or her) back. The strength of Montero's play and the hugely charismatic performance by Allegra Fulton is that neither has chosen a one-sided approach. Their Frida is complex, haunted, nasty, grasping, hurting, passionate and above all, immensely alive. Whatever Kahlo (1907-1954) may have contributed to the world of contemporary art with her personal symbolism, often expressed in stark, anatomically precise self-portraits, or her brand of egoism, the production depicts a woman to be reckoned with. The snippets of her life her terrible accidents, Rivera's womanizing, her affair with Leon Trotsky spill on top of one another, the narrative driven by the harrowing events themselves. And Fulton, the playwrights daughter, gives a vital, glowing performing that spares us nothing.
Lighting, Bonnie Beecher. Opened Oct. 17, 1996, at the Tarragon Theater. Reviewed Oct. 27; 206 seats; C$ 20.50 ($ 15) top. Running time: 1 HOUR, 25 MIN.
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