So, sorry everybody, I can't translate the rest to learn how to prepare the elixir. Maybe the whole notebook has been scanned at some point

Ah (*) the original recipe doesn't say "whale bone" but rather just "whale"

Anyway, the Remedios Varos exhibition is AMAZING ❤️

#Mexico
#MuseoDeArteModerno

Historical image of Carlos Cruz-Diez

Su influencia fue inmensa. Artistas como Carlos Cruz-Diez construyeron sobre su trabajo. Grandes exposiciones en el MoMA consolidaron su legado. #Influencia #MuseoDeArteModerno

Painted in the year of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo’s divorce from Diego Rivera, this double self-portrait stages a visible split: love and loss as well as attachment and self-preservation. Two seated versions of Kahlo hold hands on a simple bench, facing us with steady, unsmiling expressions. Both have medium-brown skin, dark hair pulled up, and a bold unibrow that anchors their face. The left Frida wears a high-necked white lace dress in a European style. The right Frida wears a vivid dress associated with Tehuana clothing including a blue bodice with yellow accents and a full olive-green skirt. Each chest is opened to reveal a heart. A thin red blood vessel threads between them like a cord, linking heart to heart across the space. In the left figure’s lap, a small surgical clamp pinches a cut vessel as blood falls onto the white skirt in dark red stains. The right figure calmly holds a small oval portrait (a tiny image of Diego Rivera) in one hand. Behind them, a turbulent sky of gray-blue clouds swirls, amplifying the sense of exposure and emotional weather. The Tehuana-dressed Frida is often read as the “beloved” Frida and connected to Rivera through the miniature portrait and the unbroken vessel while the European-dressed Frida bleeds where that bond is severed. Kahlo turns private pain into anatomy with hearts rendered as organs, not symbols, insisting that heartbreak is bodily, real, and survivable only through intervention (the clamp) and care (the clasped hands). The work also holds Kahlo’s layered identity of Indigenous Mexico and European ancestry without choosing one over the other. The stormy background refuses closure because this isn’t a tidy before/after, but a moment of radical honesty where two selves sit together, witness each other, and stay.

“Las dos Fridas” (The Two Fridas) by Frida Kahlo (Mexican) - Oil on canvas / 1939 - Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City, Mexico) #WomenInArt #WomensArt #WomanArtist #WomenArtists #FridaKahlo #Kahlo #art #arte #artText #MuseoDeArteModerno #MAM #SelfPortrait #MexicanArt #MexicanArtist #LatinAmericanArt

Lupe Marín sits on a woven, rustic bench in a spare studio interior. She has medium-brown skin, short dark hair swept up, and small earrings. Her white dress falls in broad, heavy folds across her lap with a pale belt at the waist. Both hands are clasped firmly over one knee, the knuckles and tendons modeled with weight and warmth. Thick silver bangles circle each wrist, and a strand of turquoise beads with a carved pendant rests at her chest, paired with a closer, shell collar. Her posture is upright with shoulders set, chin slightly lifted, and mouth parted as if mid-breath. She gazes upward and away from us. Behind her, a mirror leans against a wall reflecting a red-brown window frame and her own presence in a quieter register. The floorboards almost glow honey-yellow, grounding the scene in everyday material life. Rivera’s palette keeps the whites luminous without erasing texture so the portrait feels both intimate and monumental. Painted in 1938, this portrait treats Marín not as just an accessory to Mexican artist Diego Rivera. She was one of his recurring models and an incisive cultural presence in her own right. The studio setting in San Ángel and the emphasis on “Mexican” space and adornment situate her within postrevolutionary modernity as a woman framed by national symbols yet refusing to be reduced to them. The doubled image created by the mirror turns the work into a meditation on identity and how a public figure is seen, and how she might see herself when no one is asking her to pose. That same year, Rivera produced portraits connected to Marín’s novel “La única” (published in 1938), a sharp, scandal-stirring literary portrait of her circle. Beside that context, her upward glance can feel like casual independence while her clasped hands insist on self-possession. The painting becomes less a “muse” image than a declaration that Lupe Marín as author of her own narrative, can be depicted with paint, but not contained by it.

“Retrato de Lupe Marín” by Diego Rivera (Mexican) - Oil on canvas / 1938 - Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City, Mexico) #WomenInArt #MuseoDeArteModerno #MAM #MexicanArt #DiegoRivera #Rivera #ModernArt #WomenPortraits #LupeMarín #LupeMarin #arte #pintura #artText #MexicanArtist #art #PortraitofaWoman

Painted in 1923 by Mexican artist Abraham Ángel, this oil painting places modern femininity at a threshold between inside and outside as well as tradition and change. A young woman with warm coffee-toned skin sits with quiet self-assurance. Her eyes look intently sideways to our right ... steady, alert, and unflinching. She has short, neatly bob-styled dark hair, and her features are simplified with clear outlines and smooth planes of color. Small earrings frame her face, and a long necklace drops to her chest, adding a deliberate sense of personal style. She wears a patterned dress with short sleeves. The fabric is a bright, warm peach tone punctuated by small repeating marks. Her hands rest together at her lap, one gently crossing the other, creating a composed, calm gesture. Behind her, a large window divided into panes becomes a second “portrait” with sky and landscape like panels in a story. Beyond the glass, hills rise in simplified curves, a pale road or river cuts through the scene, and small houses and trees appear in tidy, flattened shapes. The space feels both domestic and expansive. The woman’s cropped hair, direct stare, and fashionable dress align with a decade when more women in Mexico were seeking education and work beyond the home. The portrait doesn’t sentimentalize that shift, it embodies it. The window operates as a social frame: she is presented as someone who belongs to public life even while seated in a private setting. In choosing to center women who could be read as defying expectations, Ángel may also be signaling his own relationship to social norms when he was living semi-openly with Manuel Rodríguez Lozano while building a bold, personal style shaped by the era’s avant-garde circles. The humble support (cardboard) and the crisp, flattened forms strengthen the sense of immediacy. This is not a distant academic ideal, but a contemporary person. She is watching, present, and fully allowed to look elsewhere.

“La chica de la ventana” (The Girl in the Window) by Abraham Ángel (Mexican) - Oil on cardboard / 1923 - Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City, México) #WomenInArt #AbrahamÁngel #AbrahamAngel #Ángel #MuseoDeArteModerno #art #artText #arte #MexicanArt #MexicanArtist #MexicanModernism #PortraitofaWoman

In this vertical canvas, a light-skinned woman (the artist herself) is shown from the waist up against a softly mottled field of tans, rust, and grey. Her short, pale hair frames a high forehead where the paint thins to a milky patch, as if light is washing across her brow. The lines of her face are delicately drawn yet firm: a long, straight nose, closed lips set in a quiet, almost stubborn line, and a strong jaw. Her extremely blue eyes, ringed by fine graphite-like contours, look hauntingly past us, giving her gaze a distant focus. She wears a simple, high-necked garment in muted brown-rose tones that dissolves into the background, so that her head, shoulders, and the backdrop seem carved from the same atmospheric haze. Thin, sketchy marks and scraped layers of paint reveal earlier gestures beneath the surface, emphasizing texture and the slow, searching process of looking at herself over time. Painted when artist Cordelia Urueta was an established figure in Mexican modernism, this self-portrait shows how she shifted from early indigenista figuration toward a more introspective, nearly abstract language of color and line. Rather than surrounding herself with symbols, she lets the charged blue of her eyes and the restless light brown field carry the psychology of the image to suggest alertness, fatigue, and resilience all at once. Born into an intellectual, politically engaged family in Coyoacán, Urueta trained in the Escuelas de Pintura al Aire Libre and later worked abroad in New York and Paris, absorbing avant-garde ideas while remaining committed to Mexican subjects. By the 1960s, she was celebrated as a great colorist and “gran dama del arte abstracto,” using paint to protest injustice, oppression, and silence. Here, the scraped, luminous surface becomes a kind of emotional weather around her face, presenting an artist who has lived through revolution, exile, and recognition, and who now insists on her own presence within a male-dominated art history.

“Autorretrato (Self-Portrait)” by Cordelia Urueta (Mexican) - Oil on canvas / 1965 - Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City, Mexico) #WomenInArt #CordeliaUrueta #CordeliaUruetaSierra #Urueta #MAMMexico #selfportrait #MexicanArt #WomensArt #WomanArtist #WomenArtists #art #artText #MuseodeArteModerno #MAM

Painter Cordelia Urueta Sierra forged a path within Mexican modernism that placed mood and interior life over grand narrative. In “Mujer en Rosa,” a woman sits with eyes closed, head slightly bowed. Her skin is a warm medium-tan modeled by soft shadows and her black hair is covered by a rose-pink veil that falls behind her shoulders. She wears a pale blush dress with short sleeves and a deep V-neck, its fabric gently wrinkling across the bodice. Her forearms rest close to the torso. The background is a shallow, interior space of browns and ochres with a window to the right. Edges are clean, volumes weighty, and light is calm and even, giving the face and clasped posture a quiet, contemplative presence. While many artists of her generation oriented their work toward public epics, Urueta looked closely at the human figure, building form from restrained color and sculptural light. “Mujer en Rosa” stands at that crossroads: the geometry of the shoulders and jaw, the poised triangle of the veil, and the planar background recall post-Cubist classicism, yet nothing feels diagrammatic. Pink is not decoration but tender temperature without sentimentality to hold the woman in a moment of reflection or prayer. This is an image of composure, self-containment, and dignity, rather than spectacle. Urueta’s career would gradually move toward looser atmospheres and bolder color fields, but her constant was attention to the psychological weight of form. Here, the measured volumes grant the figure agency: no props, no narrative clutter, only a person occupying space with quiet authority. The window exists, yet the light reveals more than it explains, allowing us to project our own story of devotion, rest, or inward thought. In a milieu where women artists often struggled for visibility, Urueta’s disciplined stillness reads as a subtle assertion of self. “Mujer en Rosa” distills her ethos: serenity as strength, color as emotion made visible, and form as a vessel for an inner world.

“Mujer en Rosa (Woman in Pink)” by Cordelia Urueta (Mexican) – Oil on canvas / c. 1930s–1940s – Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City) #WomenInArt #BlueskyArt #MAM #MuseodeArteModerno #CordeliaUrueta #Urueta #art #artText #artwork #pink #MexicanArt #MexicanArtist #WomensArt #WomanArtist #WomenArtists

Así Avanza #Abril #2025 #Flashdefelicidad25 #Medellin #Antioquia #Oslo 🇸🇪 #Estocolmo 🇳🇴# Suecia #obreo #Picasso #vigelandspark #Museodeartemoderno #Baltico

Más de vikingos 🇸🇪 #Flashdefelicidad25 #Viajarporelmundo25 #estocolmo #Picaso #Museodeartemoderno #Photos #PremioNobel #Baltico #Museumvikingo

The Museo de Arte Moderno has amazing textile art. This piece stopped me in my tracks because I’m reading Evie Wyld right now and girls/women are on my mind.

I’m worried for girls and young women.

#MexicoCity #Museodeartemoderno

Rosa Rolanda was born to a Scottish father and Mexican mother in Azusa, California as Rosemonde Cowan. She was an accomplished American professional ballerina, excellent choreographer, photographer, actor, and painter who lived a lot of her life in Mexico. After moving to New York in 1916, she adopted her stage name, Rosa Rolanda, as her legal name and began a solo career, touring Europe as part of the Ziegfeld Follies. Upon her return to the States, she met her husband, Mexican artist Miguel Covarrubias, during her final performance of Rancho Mexicano. The two married in 1930 and settled in Mexico where Rolanda produced a body of work that intersected with newly formed ideologies of the Mexican Revolution in art and transnational modern artistic trends. Her 1952 Autorretrato offers the timeless image of a woman feeling desolation and abandonment after Rosa’s husband left for her young protégé. Clad in the green and red of the Mexican flag plus a belt that girded her thin waist with a buckle of the national seal, the eagle and the serpent, Rosa stares directly at us with a solemn expression in the face of pain, even though her hair is loose and agitated by the wind, and her posture—especially her raised arms that form irregular angles, and her hands with which she seems to try, uselessly, to hold her head over the asymmetric axis of her body—denotes an intense anemic agitation. The background is full of motifs that show the contrast between several of the happy and painful events of her life in Mexico, especially those related to the world of dance that originally brought her together with Covarrubias and would eventually separate the couple. On the right side of the painting, the Mexican flag situates the place of pain, while a very Mexican skeleton tries to offer her some comfort with slight taps on the forehead.

Autorretrato (Self-portrait) by Rosa Rolanda (American) - Oil on canvas / 1952 - Museo de Arte Moderno (Mexico City) #womeninart #fineart #selfportrait #womanartist #art #portrait #womensart #RosaRolanda #oilpainting #portraitofawoman #MuseodeArteModerno #rolanda #artwork #surrealism #modernart

En el #MuseodeArteModerno de CdMx descubrí a Rosa Rolanda: pintora, bailarina, coreógrafa, fotógrafa y diseñadora. Un despliegue de talentos.

En su autorretrato mira con audacia al observador. A su espalda, reminiscencias de su pasado como bailarina y un tapiz de símbolos.

Entre los momentos memorables del año pasado: haber podido ver “Las dos Fridas”.

Las nubes dramáticas. El yo escindido. La hemorragia. Las manos tomadas.

#MuseoDeArteModerno de #CiudaddeMéxico #FridaKahlo