A GREAT PORTRAIT photograph shows the heart and skill of a great photographer, an ability to capture the moment, the personality, and temperament of the subject. I think of a portrait photograph as a mirror to both the subject and photographer.
I came to know the work of Gisèle Freund in an unexpected way. As a gay woman and plant aficionado, I’ve often explored the homes and gardens of queer creative geniuses. On one memorable trip, I reserved a slot to tour the home and garden of the painter Frida Kahlo (1907–1954). From childhood, Kahlo resided in a house known as La Casa Azul in Coyoacán, a suburb of Mexico City. On one wall of her bedroom, I was struck by a black-and-white photograph of Kahlo taken late in her life, when her physical misery was intensifying. With a mantilla draped over her shoulders, her exposed hand bedecked with rings, she’s standing with a searching, reflective look, a proud figure full of grace and sensitivity despite unremitting pain. Such a memorable image! I hurriedly scribbled down the name of the photographer on my entry ticket—Gisèle Freund—but promptly forgot about it until years later, while living in London.
Emily L. Quint Freeman is the author of the memoir Failure to Appear: Resistance, Identity and Loss (Blue Beacon Books).
