This triptych is formed by three skate decks made of 7 ply grade A Canadian maple wood.
©2025 Banco de México Diego Rivera Frida Kahlo Museums Trust, Mexico, D.F. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
A steady gaze, a crown of thorns, a lifeless hummingbird hanging like an exotic jewel: Frida Kahlo doesn’t just paint a portrait—she paints a manifesto.
In Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird (1940), the artist transforms pain into ornament, and suffering into symbol. Surrounded by Mexico’s lush flora and flanked by silent creatures—a mischievous monkey and a watchful cat—Frida appears as a stoic, almost mystical figure whose beauty is anything but pleasing; it’s defiant.
The black hummingbird hanging from her neck, far from being a symbol of joy, becomes a clever irony: life suspended, worn like an amulet. The thorns pierce her skin without apology—raw and real, like art that doesn’t ask for permission. And yet, nothing here is gratuitous; it’s sharp-edged visual poetry. A wounded elegance, yes—but one that stands tall.
This is Frida in her purest form: nature and symbol, tragedy and theatre, pain and design. Because in her world, even suffering knows how to dress.
