At the very end, thanks to help from friends, I finally made it to the heavily advertised Edvard Much exhibit “Dance of Life” at the . The museum is on an island just off of a neighborhood called Munkkiniemi in the northwest corner of the city. The building comprises a striking mid-century residence with and expanded, purpose build wing for art. It isn’t big, but worth a visit even without a headline exhibit; the original house makes full use of the seaside setting. As it was, the Munch exhibit had lines waiting out the door even on a sleet-filled weekday evening. There wasn’t much time for contemplation as the lines passed quietly by each work.
Not a fan of Munch’s oft reproduced
His self-portrait, with the arm of skeleton, below, reminded me of a piece by a contemporary graphic, Sari Bremer. Some of her work, including “Woman and Skeleton”, above, can be found from the wonderful Helsinki Artotheque (a sort of artist run lending library of original art, that I love and have also written more about here). May this wonderful idea and implementation spread to other cities and lands! A timeless theme.
One of the most striking things in the exhibit was a portrait done in oils– I have been really into portraits and self-portraits during the last year! And in that painting, the most detailed feature was this marvelous shoe.
There was also a hilarious lithograph “Madonna” which reminded me of some sort of 1960s poster art, a woman, surrounded by sperm with a thrilled looking fetus in the bottom left corner. Still disturbing over 100 years later, I also note that it is no more disturbing, really, that the solemn and oddly formed medieval Madonnas I saw en masse in Italy last November.
Some critical thoughts: I could not help comparing Munch’s more colorful oils with those of Nils Dardel. His “Dance of Life” painting from 1921, for example seemed to draw from the same pallet but I didn’t find his combination of brightness with the macabre as interesting as Dardel’s. The two painters where close contemporaries in age at least, but the exhibition made no mention of any connection between them.
I also want to rant a little about the painting that Munch titled “Love and Pain”, above, but which the Diedrichsen, and much of the internet, labeled as “The Vampire”. To me, it looks like a couple embracing in sorrow, or a woman comforting a man in pain. It was an art critic that gave it its more sensational name. In this era of pop-culture vampire ubiquity, the association feels both limiting and boring. I was dissapointed that the curators chose to use that acquired name, rather than Munch’s original. To me, it limits the work and risks diminishing the interest of the painting; it is just one of many interpretations of that melancholy and beautiful work.
That being said, I am eager to get back to the museum for another visit. The Didrichsen may be out of the way, but the setting by the water is striking and the grounds are full of sculptures worth discovering. I also found myself crushed by the crowds against a case containing this:
The museum has at least a little collection of Asian art as well. I am looking forward to going back again when the weather is better and the crowds have thinned. Meanwhile, everyone here is complaining constantly about the weather. Even so, there are moments of otherworldly beauty.