Power of Three Personalities New Exhibit Connects Lives of Extraordinary Women Artists by Gary Tischler Itís just a weekday, but at the National Museum of Women in the Artsóusually a beautiful, light-drenched place that invites contemplation and silent viewingóyou could say the joint is almost jumping. The rooms that contain the paintings, photographs and videos that encompass the exhibition on display here are buzzing and busy. The room in which a film about the life of Emily Carr is being shown is almost full, and the other rooms are active with movement, as a large number of people, mostly but not all women, move about, whisper, read, talk and think. All of this is the result of a juicy ambition and ideaóto link the lives and works of three legendary North American female artists in an exhibition that excites the imagination, creates drama, and sends ideas floating out like fireflies. The result is ìPlaces of Their Own: Emily Carr, Georgia OíKeeffe, and Frida Kahloî, a rich, stimulating, thoughtful and adventuresome exhibition that has a lot to sayóabout gender, art, experience, personality, legend and place, among many other things. It is also a gr eat and probably one-time only opportunity to see defining, wonderful and characteristic works by these three women under one roof at the same time. Curator Sharyn R. Udall set herself something of a daunting task: On the surface, the three women donít seem easily linked, especially Kahloóa personally dramatic, almost self-created, fantastical figure. In these kinds of exhibitions, sparked by an idea and themes, there is always the danger of trying to fit a tuxedo on a tree just to complete an idea or prove the point. What Udall has done is draw an incomplete map, make forceful suggestions, and get you to make the connections and embark on an adventure of ideas. Itís a heady, fascinating and compelling trip, and if Udall doesnít always prove her points, if the exhibition itself seems a little shy on works by Kahlo, these are minor criticisms. In fact, the exhibition seems to have more photographs of Kahlo than paintings by her, which may prove the point Udall makes about heróthat Kahlo used herself as a subject to speak about country, nature and culture. The great Canadian original Emily Carr, an eccentric, forceful figure with great gifts and feelings toward nature and native culture, Georgia OíKeeffe, an American icon who responded later in her career to new surroundings as only a genius could, and Frida Kahlo, the singular Mexican artist who embraced surrealism as a way of expressing dramatic and strong feelings about Mexicoís culture, are linked most strongly by their singularity. If Udall threads and weaves their commonality in response to nature, culture and personality, the three individually show us the strength of their personality, the power of their originality. Of the three, Carr is probably the least familiar in popular culture to American audiences, probably because even in Canada, she almost prided herself on being a kind of eccentric outsider. Born in 1871 in British Columbia, she studied art in France and first began painting by documenting totem poles in native village settlements. In Canada, her story and her work are legendary. In this exhibition, the big paintings of forests, trees, nature, grow increasingly abstract and are astonishing. They are a revelation that have an overpowering, dense, dark effect. OíKeeffe is as familiar as a postcard to Americansóher weathered face, the great Southwest, the skulls, her grand, old age becoming an almost living legend until her death nearing 100. The work is instantly familiar, although much of it here is rarely seen, such as ìThree Eggs in a Dish,î ìBear Lake,î ìChurch Steeple,î ìCross with a Red Heartî and ìThree Small Rocks.î Kahlo holds an enduring fascination for Americans, as much for her haunting work as for her ability to rise above and outside the shadows cast by the men in her lifeóthe man being Diego Rivera, the great Mexican muralist whom she married not once but twice. She worked despite a debilitating injury and constant pain from a severe back injury sustained in an automobile crash when she was only 22. Her paintings, surreal, fantastical, also seem heated: Kahlo, always the central figure, glows in the dark. Going through this exhibition is like living around the edges of someone elseís life. It follows a trail of clues and makes something of them, then stops by the paintings and the works as if they were stations at the cross. To view the works is to engage a little bit in worship, not just of the artists, but of the viewpoints. Interestingly, there are tantalizing tidbits along the wayóbiography as the window to the art. OíKeeffe actually met both Carr (on a visit to New York in 1930) and Kahlo around the same time. OíKeeffe and Kahlo both married older men (Alfred Stieglitz and Rivera) and both wanted but never had children. Neither did Carr, who lavished her affections on a host of pets and animals, including a monkey who traveled with her in the backcountry camper she called ìThe Elephant.î The exhibition space is full of ideas that lay on the floor like sparkle dust. Theyíre in the whisperings of the viewers that come there in numbers. On the wall, though, are the exciting mysteries and bold spirits of three originals, very much alive. ìPlaces of Their Ownî runs through May 12 at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, 1250 New York Ave., NW. For more information, please call (202) 783-5000. Gary Tischler is a contributing writer for The Washington Diplomat.