Much Munch

Our visit to the Edvard Munch museum was splendid. Unlike the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, “The Scream” was very accesible.

The poem Edvard wrote for it:

One evening I walk along the Hillside Path near
Kristiania – together with two friends. It was a
Time during which Life had ripped open my Soul –
The sun went down – had dipped quickly below the
Horizon – It was as if a Flaming Sword of Blood
cut across the Firmament – The Air turned to
Blood – with cutting Veins of Flame –
The Hillsides became a deep blue – The fjord – cut
in a cold blue – yellow and red Colours – that
shrill, bloody red – on the Road and the Railing.
The faces of my Friends became a garish yellow –
White- I felt a huge Scream – and I really did
hear a huge Scream – The Colours in Nature –
broke the lines in nature – the Lines and Colours
quivered with Movement. These Vibrations of Light
caused not only the Oscillation of my Eyes –
my Ears were also affected and began to vibrate,
so I actually heard a Scream – Then I painted
The Sceam –
E Munch

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