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I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted ... the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.

Edvard Munch

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Edvard Munch
Age: 80 †
Born: 1863
Born: January 1
Died: 1944
Died: January 1
Draftsperson
Drawer
Graphic Artist
Painter
Printmaker
E. Munch
Munch
edv. munch
Art
Scream
Nature
Passings
Colour
Actual
Passing
Clouds
Blood
Shrieked
Sense
Painted

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The Academies of Art are nothing but great painting factories - those with talent are fed in at one end, and they come out as mechanical painting machines.
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I learned early about the misery and dangers of life, and about the afterlife, about the external punishment which awaited the children of sin in Hell.
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When I paint a person, his enemies always find the portrait a good likeness.
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I have no fear of photography as long as it cannot be used in heaven and in hell.
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Your face encompasses the beauty of the whole earth. Your lips, as red as ripening fruit, gently part as if in pain. It is the smile of a corpse. Now the hand of death touches life. The chain is forged that links the thousand families that are dead to the thousand generations to come.
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By painting colors and lines and forms seen in quickened mood I was seeking to make this mood vibrate as a phonograph does. This was the origin of the paintings in The Frieze of Life.
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Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye... it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.
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I have been given a unique role to play on this earth: given to me by a life filled with sickness, ill-starred circumstances and my profession as an artist. It is a life that contains nothing that resembles happiness, and moreover does not even desire happiness.
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My art is rooted in a single reflection: why am I not as others are? ... my art gives meaning to my life.
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My father was temperamentally nervous and obsessively religious—to the point of psychoneurosis. From him I inherited the seeds of madness. The angels of fear, sorrow, and death stood by my side since the day I was born.
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There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people call it love.
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Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
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I build a kind of wall between myself and t he model so that I can paint in peace behind it. Otherwise, she might say something that confuses and distracts me.
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My fear of life is necessary to me, as is my illness. Without anxiety and illness, I am a ship without a rudder. My art is grounded in reflections over being different from others. My sufferings are part of my self and my art. They are indistinguishable from me, and their destruction would destroy my art. I want to keep those sufferings
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It is better to have a good painting with ten holes than ten bad paintings without any holes.
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I was walking along a road one evening – on one side lay the city, and below me was the fjord. The sun went down – the clouds were stained red, as if with blood. I felt as though the whole of nature was screaming – it seemed as though I could hear a scream. I painted that picture, painting the clouds like real blood. The colours screamed.
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Certainly a chair can be just as interesting as a human being. But first the chair must be perceived by a human being... You should not paint the chair, but only what someone has felt about it.
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I don’t believe in an art that is not born out of man’s need to open his heart.
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In my childhood I always felt that I was treated unjustly, without a mother, sick, and with the threat of punishment in Hell hanging over my head
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The viewers must come to understand the sacredness of painting, so they will remove their hats as if they were in church.
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