Munch knew he was a genius – Speech

In Edvard Munch’s pictures, there is no shortage of depressed men. They cower in the face of strong, sexy women. They hide their faces in their hands. Often they are isolated from others, alone with their silent melancholy. When they’re not screaming their angst at the sunset, of course. It is easy to imagine Munch himself like this: full of anxiety, sensitive, marked by having lost his mother and sister when he was a child, unlucky in love, vilified by critics in a time that did not understand him. CHARACTER: Edvard Munch lost both his mother and one of his sisters at a young age. It characterized his art, not least “Death in the hospital room” from 1893. Photo: Edvard Munch And then it was probably more complicated than that. Historian Ivo de Figueiredo this week launched the first volume in his major biography of Edvard Munch. It is rare that such large works come out even with a giant name, so the release is a small event. There are also great chances that the Munch who emerges in such a work is the figure that will remain in the consciousness of many readers. And who exactly is he? In the new biography, he is also a straight-backed prodigy who spreads down Karl Johan. Who never quite loses the self-confidence from the upper-class family he actually belonged to, even though there was little money in his childhood home. Who is the great hope for Norwegian art and who is recognized as a genius quite early on, by other artists and not least by himself. As an obsessive painter. Who realizes that the tragedies in his life also give him potent raw material for art. And who is fully aware that the scandals surrounding his “ugly” paintings in no way harm him. On the contrary. EVENT: “Stormen”, the first volume of Ivo de Figueiredo’s great biography of Edvard Munch, was published this week. Photo: NTB The myths about decadent, self-destructive artists are not just a myth at all. Many of those who create works that remain have wanted to live hard. They have been drawn towards experiences and conditions that many others steer clear of. But the myth can get in the way of the simple fact that intoxication and excess can quickly get in the way of productivity. And if you are truly dedicated to your art, you will often simply prioritize painting, or writing, or composing. Mozart and Shakespeare, two other undoubted geniuses, were both workaholics. So was our husband. Ivo de Figueiredo also sets Munch up as a contrast to Hans Jæger, who was truly both destructive and self-destructive. Jæger is engulfed in suicidal thoughts that appear incomprehensible to Munch. The dead can’t paint. CONFIDENT: Self-portrait of the young Edvard Munch. In Ivo de Figueiredo’s new biography, he is portrayed as a man who lives and breathes to paint, and who knows that he himself is a genius. Photo: The Munch Museum / Edvard Munch For today’s audience, it should not be difficult to imagine Munch’s surroundings, and how he had to think and navigate. The landscape that he and his friends wander through is the modern metropolis. Impressions and personalities flicker past on the wide pavements. The department stores are overflowing with goods, and the shopping community is about to be born. The sociologist Richard Sennett is among those who see the modern man coming into being precisely at this time. Religion is less important than before. The economy explodes. Good and bad investments can send you into the upper class or into bankruptcy. It seems as if it is possible, in a completely different way than before, to create oneself and one’s life. LIFE IN THE CITY: In the years Munch made a breakthrough, the modern metropolitan culture was also developed. On the way down Karl Johans gate in Kristiania, many could feel that they were at an exhibition. “Rainy day on Karl Johan” by Edvard Munch, 1891. Photo: The Munch Museum / Edvard Munch People become more free, but also more nervous about making mistakes. The clothes you wear are no longer just something you inherited from your older sister or have worn for five years in a row. You probably bought them, choosing them over the other clothes in the store. Thus they also become symbols, an expression of who you are, of how good your taste is. You interpret and misinterpret others, and are anxious about being misinterpreted yourself. As Ivo de Figueiredo sees him, Munch is someone who understands that times have changed. He knows that he, the avant-garde, the visionary, is at the mercy of people with money, people who buy things. Often this bourgeoisie will be a little old-fashioned, happy with the familiar. He has to get them to buy the new thing, the thing they don’t really like. How does he achieve it? At least partly through staging oneself. CONTROVERSIAL: “Inger på Stranden” was strongly criticized when it was exhibited as part of the Autumn Exhibition in 1889. Some thought that the stones looked like pillows. Photo: The Munch Museum / Edvard Munch “Inger on the Beach”, a soft evening picture of his sister Inger, was sharply criticized during the Autumn Exhibition in 1889. Inger’s figure looked lifeless, and people could not understand why the stones looked like pillows. Munch immediately persuaded artist Erik Werenskiold to buy the picture for a startlingly cheap price. Thus he could boast of having sold the exhibition’s most reviled picture. One can only imagine what those who had criticized him were thinking. What was it that they had not understood? WOUNDED MEN: There are plenty of Munch paintings, such as “Løsrivelse” from 1896, which show wounded and unhappy men. Photo: The Munch Museum / Edvard Munch And of course Edvard Munch was everything else too. Sick and nervous. Still broke. Strongly influenced by growing up with his unstable father, the tense and outgoing doctor Christian Munch. But in modern times, there is not necessarily a contradiction between feeling bad feelings and using them consciously. Because you are both yourself and playing yourself, all the time.



ttn-69