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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.

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
Come
Feds
Nothing
Factories
Great
Machines
Painting
Talent
Education
Academies
Art
Mechanical
Ends
Academy

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My breakthrough came very late in life, really only starting when I was 50...I had the strength for new deeds and ideas.
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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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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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All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart's blood. Art is your heart's blood.
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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.
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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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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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I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.
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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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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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Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have
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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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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.
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Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
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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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I have no fear of photography as long as it cannot be used in heaven and in hell.
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Oil-painting is a developed technique. Why go backwards?
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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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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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