I am writing about Edvard Munch (1863-1944) cautiously and with fear.
I must admit, I’m afraid to hold my eyes on many of his paintings for long. So much pessimism, despair, and hopelessness are embedded in them that I physically suffer while watching them.
It is understandable – he is the consummate master of the brush and undoubtedly, very brave and independent mind, who has not been afraid to look at the darkest depths of life and the human soul.
Guided by the popular expression “if you are afraid of something, do it” and perhaps to overcome the strong not positive emotions, caused so far by much of his works, I decided to write about him here.
Who was Edvard Munch?
Unhappy heir to an unhealthy, burdened family? Son of a puritan who has grown up his children alone by reading inappropriate books to them and scaring them with ghost stories? A desperate drunk and a bully? An incredible pessimist? A man looking with no fear in the abyss? Or all that in one?
I don’t know the answer…
It remains a secret to me why his painting Scream is among the most expensive purchased art works in the world? Why do so many of his paintings have been subjects of theft? What makes people peep into the abyss, regardless of the fear?
If I didn’t know anything about his life, and if I would have enough money, I’d rather buy some of his landscapes.
I like how Munch feels nature. He seemed to read its soul in his paintings.
The trees have their own role and character and radiate emotions. The sea is a living organism, with its own energy and internal logic. It seems to breathe. The road is sleepy stretching along the sea. The moon talks to the shore. The sky is listening to their talk.
If you want to see some of the works of Edvard Munch, you may visit Wikiart.