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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

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
Mother
Punishment
Without
Treated
Always
Threat
Sick
Childhood
Hell
Head
Unjustly
Felt
Hanging

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Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have
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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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I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted ... the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.
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The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.
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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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Youth must go ahead and prosper. These young painters are all very talented people, but they all paint frescoes.
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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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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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It was always my intention that The Frieze should be housed in a room which would provide a suitable architectural frame for it.
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All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart's blood. Art is your heart's blood.
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Oil-painting is a developed technique. Why go backwards?
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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.
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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.
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I find it difficult to imagine an afterlife, such as Christians, or at any rate many religious people, conceive it, believing that the conversations with relatives and friends interrupted here on earth will be continued in the hereafter.
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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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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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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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I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.
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Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
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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