Inspirations
Tina Modotti 1896-1942
Links:
- Patriagrande
- Tina Modotti-Wikipedia
- George Eastman House Still Photograph Archive
- The Tina Modotti Documentary Film Project
- Tina Modotti Virtual Gallery
- Tina Modotti: Radical Photographer by Margaret Hooks
- Tina Modotti: Aperture Masters of Photography Series by Margaret Hooks and Tina Modotti
- Shadows, Fire, Snow: The Life of Tina Modotti by Patricia Albers
- Tina Modotti & Edward Weston: The Mexico Years by Sarah Lowe
- Tina Modotti by Margaret Hooks
- Tina Modotti Photographs by Sarah Lowe
- Tina Modotti: Between Art and Revolution by Letizia Argenteri
- Tina Modotti: A Life by Pino Cacucci and Patricia J. Duncan
- Tina Modotti's Mexico: A Tale Of Love & Revolution by Bonnie Hayman and Andrea Alessandra Cabello
- Tina Modotti: A Fragile Life by Mildred Constantine
- Tina Modotti: Image, Texture, Photography by Andrea Noble
- The Letters from Tina Modotti to Edward Weston (Center for Creative Photography, No 22)
Frida Kahlo
The Two Fridas
The Two Fridas, Frida Kahlo, 1939
I
I am daily born and like manna
from the sky, rain down from a thundercloud;
I am dulcet blood of the virgin, the accidental spill;
the heart in the throat, the heart out of its cavity;
the chest a mocking hole, the dress mocking birth.
I snip my vein to hold my own;
I spill my blood; I bare the pain.
Jagged and messy behind the white bloom
that surrounds me, the frill that encloses.
Brilliant silence, brown to the bone.
II
Give me clay and I'll chew it.
Give me the serpent and I'll subdue it.
My heart is whole, watch it blossom.
No chest contains it, red breath pure.
These hands, watch how steady,
nothing will deter them.
Wild pelvic upturned, ground heels down flat.
Take leche at my breast, forget your deaths.
By eyebrow might, by embalm,
by coptic jar, I will keep you still.
--Ann White
The Two Fridas, Frida Kahlo, 1939
I
I am daily born and like manna
from the sky, rain down from a thundercloud;
I am dulcet blood of the virgin, the accidental spill;
the heart in the throat, the heart out of its cavity;
the chest a mocking hole, the dress mocking birth.
I snip my vein to hold my own;
I spill my blood; I bare the pain.
Jagged and messy behind the white bloom
that surrounds me, the frill that encloses.
Brilliant silence, brown to the bone.
II
Give me clay and I'll chew it.
Give me the serpent and I'll subdue it.
My heart is whole, watch it blossom.
No chest contains it, red breath pure.
These hands, watch how steady,
nothing will deter them.
Wild pelvic upturned, ground heels down flat.
Take leche at my breast, forget your deaths.
By eyebrow might, by embalm,
by coptic jar, I will keep you still.
--Ann White
Links:
- The Frida Kahlo Museum
- Modern Tate Exhibit 2005
- Frida Kahlo-Wikipedia
- The Life and Times of Frida Kahlo--PBS
- Frida Kahlo: The Camera Seduced by Elena Poniatowska & Carla Stellweg
- Frida's Fiestas: Recipes and Reminiscences of Life with Frida Kahlo by Guadalupe Rivera and Marie-Pierre Colle
- The Diary of Frida Kahlo : An Intimate Self-Portrait by Carlos Fuentes & Sarah M. Lowe
- Frida Kahlo by Robyn Montana Turner
- Frida: A Biography of Frida Kahlo by Hayden Herrera
- Frida Kahlo: The Paintings by Hayden Herrera
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