They have a museum dedicated to the man.
Edvard Munch has such an outsized influence as an artist here that they have a museum entirely built around his works.
And it boggles the mind.
I had thought that the collection in Bergen was impressive, but that collection is relatively insignificant in comparison.
It is almost surprising that an artist is able to evoke so much emotion from a relatively coarse depiction, yet Munch does so expertly. His strokes are broad, but they are expertly placed. This piece is titled “Woman with Sick Child, Inheritance.”
The woman is holding her dying child, affected by congenital syphilis. Her grief is unmistakable, and it is overwhelming. It is the type of ugly-faced sorrow that betrays a profound loss. This is an undeniable emotion that comes from deep within in her soul, where her heart is being shattered.
I had to step away and return a few times. This work is breathtaking.
In the center of the museum they have three versions of “The Scream” on display. It is a work most of us are familiar with, its haunting depiction part of our cultural language. The depiction is creepy, haunting, insane, and confusing. Like so much great art, it begs questions, and each viewer brings their own answers.
The works are fragile, constructed of shoddy materials such as cardboard and crayon, so only one rendition is available for public view at any given time, with the work changing at 30 minute intervals.
Visitors crowd the Scream Gallery as the 30 minute window gradually closes, awaiting the grand reveal of the next version. Watching the crowds has its own fascination as people stake themselves purposefully in front of the works, neglecting all else in the museum, whereas others, like me, wander in and out of the gallery.
There is too much to see here to stand pointlessly waiting for a clock to tick.
Across town at the Oslo museum, other great periods of Norwegian art and culture are on display, but things like crystal and silverware don’t do much for me.
This serving set is beautiful, and an excellent representation of the modern Scandinavian sensibilities on display.
But upstairs is another version of “The Scream,” my fourth for this trip. Visitors crowd around this one.
And another Madonna, much like the one across town.
Nearby yet another distraught mother grieves. This is different,but the loss strikes deeply.
And each version is unique, with its own qualities.
I have had a day of Munch. Other artists, such as Rothko, showed up, but today was all about Edvard Munch.
My visit to the old fortress at Akershus was a bit of a bust (the grounds were beautiful, although I couldn’t get inside any of the buildings), but that didn’t matter because the Munchs were glorious, and for one day that was perfect.
As the afternoon drew on, the last museum closed, but it was still sunny as I left the harbor en route to my hotel, stopping momentarily for an espresso.
And I loved every minute of it.
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