Half a century after her death, Kahlo, around whom a whole industry has sprung up like a garden on a grave site, grows more alive with each passing decade. Frida’s postmortem chuckle-a last laugh if there ever was one-is echoing still. One observer recalled that, deformed by the phantasmagoric, flickering shadows, her lips appeared to break into a grin just as the doors closed shut. Her ignited hair blazed around her head like an infernal halo. The sudden blast of heat from the open incinerator doors blew the bejeweled, elaborately coiffed body bolt up-right. As frenzied mourners watched the earthly remains of Frida Kahlo roll away into the crematory, the artist, known in her day for her macabre sense of mischief, played one last ghoulish trick on her audience.
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