Essentially this famous picture is autobiographical, an
expressionistic construction based on Munch's actual experience of
a scream piercing through nature while on a walk, after his two
companions, seen in the background, had left him. Fitting the fact
that the sound must have been heard at a time when his mind was in
an abnormal state, Munch renders it in a style which if pushed to
extremes can destroy human integrity. As previously noted, the
flowing curves of art nouveau represent a subjective linear fusion
imposed upon nature, whereby the multiplicity of particulars is
unified into a totality of organic suggestion with feminine
overtones. But man is part of nature, and absorption into such a
totality liquidates the individual. Beginning at this time Munch
included art nouveau elements in many pictures but usually only in
a limited or modified way. Here, however, in depicting his own
morbid experience, he has let go, and allowed the foreground figure
to become distorted by the subjectivized flow of nature; the scream
could be interpreted as expressing the agony of the obliteration of
human personality by this unifying force. Significantly, although
it was Munch himself who underwent the experience depicted, the
protagonist bears no resemblance to him or anyone else. The
creature in the foreground has been depersonalized and crushed into
sexlessness or, if anything, stamped with a trace of the femininity
of the world that has come close to assimilating it.
Several facts indicate Munch was aware of the danger of an art
of this sort for a neurotic humanist like himself. He soon
abandoned the style and rarely if ever again subjected a foreground
figure to this kind of radical and systematic distortion. At the
top of another version of the subject (National Gallery, Oslo) he
wrote: 'Can only have been painted by a madman.' He certainly had a
horror of insanity, which had afflicted his sister Laura. Within
the picture, he has set up a defense, in the form of the plunging
perspective of the roadway and its fence, which preserves a
rational world of three dimensions, holding at bay the swell of art
nouveau curves. Safe in this rational world, the two men in the
distance remain unequivocably masculine. In the foreground unified
nature has come close to crossing the fence, close enough to
distort the form and personality of the protagonist. But the fence
still protects it from total absorption into subjective
madness.
The Screamhas been the target of several high-profile art
thefts. In 1994, the version in the National Gallery was stolen. It
was recovered several months later.
The Sunis perhaps the greatest achievement of modern mural
painting. Symmetrically structured, it occupied the enormous front
space of Oslo University's assembly hall, dominating through size,
unmitigated frontality, and power of imagery.
Munch extended the sun image in this mural from a partial to an
embracing role, having first proposed a Nietzschean Mountain of Man
that rose toward a sun-covered sky. Upon further reflection, and in
compliance with advice from friends, he abandoned the problematical
symbol to retain the sun image in pure, intense, and masculine
dominance.
Illuminated by the sunrays are the water of the ocean, the bare
rocks of a Northern landscape, and a slim strip of verdant green
that separated land and sea. A clean, straight horizon line divides
the waters from sky. The great sun is all-pervasive, shinning from
the heavens upon land and sea, its rays reaching out to all
eternity. Inhuman itself, it is the source of all life.
When Jens Thiis bought this picture for the National Gallery,
Oslo, in 1909 the public was shocked; one critic denounced it as
portraying a drunken prostitute. This is unlikely to have been
Munch's idea. He did paint several pictures of prostitutes, tending
to depict them as unattractive or even grotesque, whereas this
woman closely resembles theMadonnaand, different though the
setting, shares her ethereal beauty. She is probably intended to
illustrate one aspect of the essence of protean womanhood portrayed
in that work. Both paintings in fact relate to a lost picture by
Munch that Hans Jaeger had with him in his prison cell when jailed
in 1886 for publishing From Christiania's Bohemia, a novel in which
descriptions of free bohemian life parallel what is shown here. The
present picture is more directly a replica, modified by his style
of the 1890s, of the same subject painted in 1885-86 and also lost.
One important Norwegian precedent for the depiction of a dissolute
woman would undoubtedly have been known to Munch, Hans Heyerdahl's
tiny, exquisite painting ofThe Champagne Girl, which was also
strongly attacked when exhibited. If Munch's picture representsThe
Day After, Heyerdahl's might be called 'The Evening Before.'
Until his late years Munch never showed any interest in
still-life painting for its own sake, but he sometimes introduced
it into subject pictures, giving it, as in this case, the status of
a separate image, a material correlate of the human situation
portrayed.Gauguinhad employed still life in a similar manner in
some of his portraits, without giving it the same degree of
independence. InThe Day Afterthe differing pairs of bottles and
glasses hint that the woman has had a nocturnal visitor.
No other painting conveys so strongly Munch's belief in the
working class as the dominant force in the society of the future.
The tramp of the weary workers along the road home, from the
distant vanishing point up to and beyond the picture plane, almost
certainly signifies the march of the working class from the distant
past up to the present and beyond it into the future, which is to
belong to them. In contrast to this forward movement, and causing
it to seem all-the-more relentless, the perspective shoots inward,
accompanied in the middle ground on the left by a few small figures
of bourgeois appearance; they recede into the past which, from
Munch's standpoint, is where they belong. To augment the grandeur
of the workers' procession he shows most of the scene from a low
eye level, but as the foreground figures successively approach the
picture plane the eye level rises in steps, so that the man in
front, seen from a height and bisected by the base line, seems to
be walking past us out of the picture, creating a cinematic effect.
The use of multiple contours, especially evident in the leading
figure, further increases the impression of movement. In fact the
whole picture seems dominated by a tangle of wiry lines, more like
a drawing than a painting; the lower legs of the man on the left
are actually transparent, allowing us to look through them at the
cobblestones.
The practice of free love by the bohemians of Christiania,
advocated by Jaeger as suited to an anarchist society, led to a
good deal of jealousy. Among those who aroused it was Oda Krohg
(wife of the painter Christian Krohg), who became, to borrow Tom
Lehrer's phraseology, the hypotenuse of a triangle involving her
husband and Jappe Nilssen, a young journalist who was a friend of
Munch. His jealousy inspired this symbolic composition which Munch
painted in several versions under various titles:Jealousy,
andMelancholy.
Nilssen sits miserable among the rocks on the shore at
Asgardstrand, in the profile position of contemplation. In the
distance the figures of a man and a woman, Christian and Oda Krohg,
are about to embark on a boat, bound for an island where they will
make love. Nilssen is painted in the manner of the Pont-Aven
school, in heavy inflexible contours. The further flatten a figure
already flattened by the profile silhouette, and do not altogether
harmonize with the vague plastic implication of the face and the
hand supporting it. The distant view is fused into art nouveau
undulations, We are in fact presented with two different image:
firstly, an imaginary but objective view of a melancholy man and
secondly, a blurred picture of the distant scene his mind's eye
conjures up as a metaphor of the cause of his melancholy. Such
double images, demanding a transfer from our own eyes to the mid's
eye of a foreground figure, are not uncommon in Munch Munch
paintedThe Stormin Aasgaardstrand, a small Norwegian seaside resort
he and other artists frequented. The painting may have been
inspired by a violent storm that occured there that summer, but it
also conjures a sense of psychic distress. Standing near the water
on an eerie blue Scandinavian summer night, a young woman clad in
white clasps her hands to her head. Other women, standing apart
from her, echo the anguished gesture. The windows of the
housebright, yellow, arrestingimbue the building with an almost
human presence while suggesting a vibrant world from which the
women are excluded.