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When I paint, I never think of selling. People simply fail to understand that we paint in order to experiment and to develop ourselves as we strive for greater heights.
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
Order
Develop
Never
Strive
Think
Fail
Thinking
Paint
Heights
People
Failing
Experiment
Simply
Height
Greater
Experiments
Understand
Selling
More quotes by Edvard Munch
It was always my intention that The Frieze should be housed in a room which would provide a suitable architectural frame for it.
Edvard Munch
To die is as if one's eyes had been put out and one cannot see anything any more. Perhaps it is like being shut in a cellar. One is abandoned by all. They have slammed the door and are gone. One does not see anything and notices only the damp smell of putrefaction.
Edvard Munch
I don’t believe in an art that is not born out of man’s need to open his heart.
Edvard Munch
Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.
Edvard Munch
I felt as if there were invisible threads connecting us - I felt the invisible strands of her hair still winding around me - and thus as she disappeared completely beyond the sea - I still felt it, felt the pain where my heart was bleeding - because the threads could not be severed.
Edvard Munch
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
Edvard Munch
The way one sees is also dependent upon one's emotional state of mind. This is why a motif can be looked at in so many ways, and this is what makes art so interesting.
Edvard Munch
Some colors reconcile themselves to one another, others just clash.
Edvard Munch
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.
Edvard Munch
I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.
Edvard Munch
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.
Edvard Munch
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.
Edvard Munch
A work of art can only come from the interior of man. Art is the form of the image formed upon the nerves, heart, brain and eye of man.
Edvard Munch
My breakthrough came very late in life, really only starting when I was 50...I had the strength for new deeds and ideas.
Edvard Munch
The viewers must come to understand the sacredness of painting, so they will remove their hats as if they were in church.
Edvard Munch
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.
Edvard Munch
The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.
Edvard Munch
At different moments you see with different eyes. You see differently in the morning than you do in the evening. In addition, how you see is also dependent on your emotional state. Because of this, a motif can be seen in many different ways, and this is what makes art interesting.
Edvard Munch
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
Edvard Munch
I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted ... the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.
Edvard Munch