Kitsch is a bit of a dirty word in the art world – no artist wants to make it, and no critic wants to love it. But many people do. People who are exhausted from trying to decipher spatters and squares; people who want to look at things that amuse them, things they understand. Which brings us to the most famous example of kitsch, some may even say the Mona Lisa of kitsch: C. M. Coolidge’s Dogs Playing Poker from 1903.

There are some paintings you only need to see once. And then there are other paintings that require repeat visits. Not necessarily because the painting has changed, but because you have. This is the case for almost everyone I’ve ever met who has seen “The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit,” the enormous 7’x7’ canvas at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Carmen Herrera’s work is a masterclass in the reduction of form, but her career is, ironically, a story of what happens when an artist is reduced to being a woman artist in a circle of men. Born in Havana, Cuba, in 1915, Herrera trained in Paris and moved in circles of highly influential artists and writers. When she moved to New York in the 1950s, she was told point blank that she would never receive a solo gallery show. She sold her first painting at 81. Read on for more.