The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl

The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl, 1949
The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl (1949) Oil on masonite

The Love Embrace holds many layers of entwining embraces. The twofold face of the Universe, the light and dark background of planets and ethereal fog, is holding a murkier Earth (Mexico), whose breasts are lactating. The Earth (Mexico), with all her vegetation, is subsequently holding Frida Kahlo. Continuing further, Frida is then holding a nude Diego Rivera, whose forehead contains a third eye. This is a peculiar painting simply with these many different inclusions of subject material.

As one looks at this painting in comparison to Kahlo’s other works, one can clearly spot similarities throughout the canvas. Many art critics have contended that The Love Embrace portrays several of Frida’s life struggles, including but not limited to: womanhood, infertility, and, Diego Rivera.

Text from wiki
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How about a Rainbow? at FCAC

This show was so so so cute and amazing gave my lots of giggles and had the works that had VR used it so well! A few things I noticed were layers of coloured pencil retarding a layer of paint and the use of text as texture constructed around other scrunchy shapes. Potentially accidental marks soothed me and the explanations of drawings were great.
A fantastic show to see while spending the day in the sun making herself that lives in a draw

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No Ordinary Sun
Ralph Hotere (screenshot by the writer)

Hotere created this work from the poem by the same name by Hone Tuwhare

No Ordinary Sun
Hone Tuwhare

Tree let your arms fall:
raise them not sharply in supplication
to the bright enhaloed cloud.
Let your arms lack toughness and
resilience for this is no mere axe
to blunt nor fire to smother.

Your sap shall not rise again
to the moon’s pull.
No more incline a deferential head
to the wind’s talk, or stir
to the tickle of coursing rain.

Your former shagginess shall not be
wreathed with the delightful flight
of birds nor shield
nor cool the ardour of unheeding
lovers from the monstrous sun.

Tree let your naked arms fall
nor extend vain entreaties to the radiant ball.
This is no gallant monsoon’s flash,
no dashing trade wind’s blast.
The fading green of your magic
emanations shall not make pure again
these polluted skies . . . for this
is no ordinary sun.

O tree
in the shadowless mountains
the white plains and
the drab sea floor
your end at last is written.