This beautiful, articulate, and feverish memoir traces a Mexico City childhood and a New York city youth during an era that was iconic for both cities.
Jennifer grows up down the road from Frida Kahlo’s and Diego Rivera’s studio, and ends up in New York studying dance after her bohemian childhood in Mexico.
Teeming with love for Mexico, New York City, the arts, life, and love, this is a remarkable tale of a remarkable character living during a remarkable time.
The eccentric cast of characters includes famous artists and their families and lovers, as well as powerful movers and shakers of the 20th century. It’s one of those “you had to be there” stories, but one that brings you along for the ride with a true generosity of spirit.
Told in a series of vignettes, this book looks at the life of the artist, art, and truth, as well as more prosaic topics like childhood, friendship, and food. It’s all mixed up in a heady whirlwind.
There’s an innocence to all the drugs, partying, relations and seemingly endless creativity, though there’s also police violence and crackdowns on Black street artists, as well as the looming shadow of AIDS. Loved the insights into early graffiti artists (writers) and the NYC street scene.
This book is so vividly painted: it made me want to read more of the author’s work, especially her Widow Basquiat, which looks at Basquiat through the lens of his lover, Suzanne, who is a great friend of Jennifer.
This book is sharp, cynical, innocent, and hopeful.
One word: radiant.
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