I had assumed loving an artist meant disappearing a little, and I had assumed that Lee Krasner had been forced to shrink, too. But in the Met’s exhibition announcement, I didn't find affirmation but frustration: 'Give her a solo show!'

The Pollock-Krasner House in Springs, East Hampton, was a different story. I knew far more about Jackson Pollock than Lee Krasner, who I saw as a victim of a tumultuous relationship, her story mirroring my own. Yet, Krasner's studio told a different tale. After Pollock's death, she reclaimed the barn with her own explosive work, painting at a sweeping scale and filling the space with her ambition.

Matthew Ward, director of the Pollock-Krasner House, guided me to see their partnership from a different perspective. 'They' slept in separate beds, and 'they' made appointments to visit each other's studios. The romance was in the passion for their art. Krasner's habit of destroying and reassembling older paintings that no longer felt true to her spoke of a woman who had rewritten her relationship, her life, and her legacy.

When The Met announced the exhibition, I felt a mix of disappointment and intrigue. Was this a celebration of their partnership or a neglect of Krasner's individuality? The answer came in the form of Mary Gabriel's book and a Zoom call from Ireland. Krasner's life, like her paintings, was a story of transformation and resilience.