If there was ever a story that deserved to be told through an opera, just Frida Kahlo’s story would’ve been enough. Marked by illness and personal tragedy, she was often compelled to paint during long periods of convalescence. Her powerful body of work, turbulent marriage to Diego Rivera—one of the founders of Mexican muralism—and numerous affairs, including those with Georgia O’Keeffe and Leon Trotsky, all contributed to the making of the icon she is today. Rather than retelling these familiar biographical details, Nilo Cruz offers a different lens: a dreamlike narrative centered on the Day of the Dead, one of Mexico’s most significant traditions, brought to life through the evocative score of Gabriela Lena Frank.
Upon visiting the cemetery, a brooding Diego Rivera (Mexican baritone Alfredo Daza), longs for her beloved Frida (Argentinian mezzosoprano Daniela Mack) to return from the dead. In the meantime, in the Azteca underworld, the mighty Catrina (the always wonderful and comedic Ana María Martinez) tries to persuade Frida to go back with the rest of the souls to visit him. The transition from the night in the cemetery, full of orange marigolds (the flowers of the dead), to the warm underworld makes you feel like you are in a dream.
Frida is not convinced that this is the right move after all the suffering she experienced through her many ailments and most importantly, the tumultuous relationship with her pot-bellied husband, until she finally concedes persuaded by Leonardo, a Greta Garbo impersonator that failed to return from the dead on time and is in Catrina’s naughty list. While Diego is trying, unsuccessfully, to paint, Frida rises to the land of the living. What happened next was my second favorite part. Frida and Diego go for a stroll, recreating Diego Rivera’s “Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park”, one of his most playful and colorful murals. While the role of Leonardo remains somewhat unclear and slightly disrupts the overall tone —despite Key’mon Murrah’s visually arresting performance in a sparkling robe and turban— it was nonetheless a rare pleasure to witness a counterbaritone on stage.
Director Lorena Maza recreates the world of the dead and Frida Kahlo’s home with striking theatricality, emphasizing the vibrant colors Frida insisted upon in both her art and her life. From wandering souls clad in exquisite Mexican textiles to the evocative recreation of the Alameda Central mural, the production unfolds as a rich visual tapestry. Her Casa Azul appears animated with floating hearts, while Frida herself is rendered through the lens of her own painted self-portraits. El último sueño de Frida y Diego emerges as a magnificent work of art—one that celebrates the beauty of Mexican culture and honors the woman who carried it onto the world stage.
My favorite part was the moment I realized they were singing in Spanish. Not having to read the supertitles made a huge difference in experiencing the music. Although there wasn’t a memorable aria, the music was very much in tune with the mystic atmosphere that permeated the story. There is still time to see this significant work highlighting the art of the most iconic female artist of our time. A Mexican woman named Frida.
⋅
Language: Sung in Spanish with projected English titles
Running Time: 2 hours and 15 minutes, including 1 intermission
Location: Lyric Opera House
Music by: Gabriela Lena Frank
Libretto by: Nilo Cruz
Carolina A. Herrera ha escrito dos novelas. #Mujer que piensa (El BeiSMan Press, 2016) y Flor de un árbol raro (El BeiSMan Press, 2021). Ambas han obtenido el primer premio en sus respectivas categorías del International Latino Book Award. Sus cuentos y ensayos han aparecido en casi una decena de antologías de escritores en Estados Unidos. Ha traducido numerosos guiones para cine y televisión. Es directora de EL BEISMAN punto com y co-organizadora de la Feria del Libro de Chicago.