This is the second production inspired by Frida Kahlo that I’ve seen this summer. The first, The Four Fridas, was an enormous spectacle put together by Greenwich & Docklands International Festival’s Bradley Hemmings. It included a mesmerising and moving flight of the Voladores. Caroline Bowditch’s piece is the opposite in scale – intimate and friendly – but equally resonant, exploring the marks we leave on the world we exist in.

Bowditch has fallen head over heels for Frida. Or is it that she’s fallen head over heels for the idea of Frida? Or that Frida’s life and work resonate with her so much that she has fallen in love with the story of Frida? Over sixty minutes she charmingly chats to us about her life and how her discovery of Kahlo’s work and biography has inspired this performance – and continues to inspire her life. Kahlo was severely injured in a bus accident as a young woman, including a broken spinal cord that rendered her immobile for three months. We meet Bowditch lying on a bright yellow table listening to the music Frida played at home. She is joined on stage by two beguiling dancers, dressed in signature bright Kahlo colours. The three women dance together and alone, conjuring images of confidence and courage to isolation and nerves. The movement is fluid and with clean lines and soft shapes. It is performed with rich emotion.

We fall in love with Caroline, Frida’s story fading into the distance as she charismatically regales us with hilarious anecdotes and touching love stories. We hear about her attending a conference for little people at which she hooks up with a ‘tall’ woman and has a fantastically rich love affair. We are given shots of tequila and collectively down them. She receives a voicemail from an old teacher who has seen her on the news – utterly astounded by Caroline’s achievements in this world.

The entire piece is full of heart and soul. It’s the word ‘love’ in the title that carries the idea of our legacy from the top of the show and onto the evening street. On our way out we’re handed postcards and urged to send them to someone we love. Surely that’s how we will be remembered – the loves in our lives and the people we touch. I’m glad to have been touched, very gently, by Caroline Bowditch.