Frida in a Crown of Light

Frida in a Crown of Light holds one of the most recognisable faces of the twentieth century, formed not in paint but in the surface of the acrylic glass. Her joined brows, her unflinching gaze, the set of her mouth, all shaped through controlled scratches that let the surface become skin and shadow at once.

Around her, a headdress of starched lace pleats radiates outward like a halo, each fold caught as a field of fine scratches reaching toward the edge of the frame. From a distance the collar reads as a wheel of pure light circling her head, up close it opens into individual marks, each one a sliver of the whole.

The face itself stays dark at its centre, the eyes, the brows, the hollow beneath the cheekbones withheld from the light so the gaze keeps its weight. Flowers pinned in her braided hair catch the same glow as the collar, a small crown within the larger one, honouring a woman who turned her own image into a language of identity.

The image is always present, scratched into the surface of the acrylic glass rather than sitting on top of it. Light does not create the image, it sharpens it, under direct light the pleats catch and flare, the contrast deepens, and the portrait reads differently from every angle without ever losing itself.

Frida in a Crown of Light continues the Art with Scratch series by Tijs Dragtsma, in which imagery is constructed through controlled surface damage rather than pigment or print.

"A crown is not only worn. Sometimes it is cut into the dark until it shines."

More about the artist, process and materials can be found on the About page.

Questions about this work, availability or shipping can be sent through the contact page.