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To Scream or not to scream - Edvard Munch at the National Portrait Gallery
By
Rhea Mathur
March 24, 2025
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
“Illness, insanity, and death were the black angels that kept watch over my cradle and accompanied me all my life”, said Edvard Munch, whose portraits, never seen before in the UK, are now on view at the National Portrait Gallery. Munch’s work is not inherently dark - especially given that Victor Hugo’s works are only a stone’s throw away at the Royal Academy- yet sadness, anguish, and obvious sense of loss confront viewers in his works. The exhibition’s (and Gallery’s) emphasis on portraiture allows Munch’s double portraits to shine. They reflect his inherent ability to bring an evolving and intense tension between people to the canvas. Some of the most enthralling works in this collection are the ones capturing a conversation between two bodies, encapsulating the same anxieties his best-known work, The Scream (1893), is said to communicate.
Aase and Harald Nørregaard (1899) is the last painting (if you are viewing it clockwise) in this chronologically curated exhibition. What is surprising about this work is that it is made on paper and not on a canvas, given the depth and layering of the oil paints. With a simple and elegant golden frame adorned with the artist's name, Munch includes many shades, all merging into each other and depicting an aggressive and pensive atmosphere around the two faces. In the portrait, Aase looks at the viewer while Harald looks at her. This setting, as well as the dark black pencil marks next to her face, attest to a hidden conflict. Harald was known to be one of Munch’s advisers, and Aase gradually became a close friend, so much so that her death greatly affected the artist. This information allows for a different reading, perhaps one where Harald is looking at Aase because she is a pivotal figure in his life, and the lines around them reflect their evolving energies and the many conversations they had before her death.
Another such double portrait is Lucien Dedichen and Jappe Nilssen (1925-6). There is a lot that is interesting in this oil work on canvas. This includes the chipping wall in the background of two men in suits who appear to be talking business. Munch’s use of red paint in his palette also stands out in this work because it defines the facial features, making them appear more authentic. Multiple paintings hang on the walls, there’s fruit on the table along with books, and the man on the right is sitting in a rather comfortable armchair, all suggesting that this professional conversation is taking place in a house, largely recognised as Munch’s estate on the outskirts of Oslo. It is suggested that this conversation between the doctor (sitting) and the patient (standing) is full of despair because Nilssen is unable to find a cure for Dedichen. Hopelessness and death loom in each portrait - whether they are purposely included by Munch or find their way in, their presence is unrelenting.
Munch’s father, Dr Christian Munch, was a military doctor practising in Oslo, or Kristiania as it was called at the time. After losing his wife to tuberculosis, he was known to experience bouts of anxiety and nervousness that, in Munch’s 1885 portrait of his father, appears to have impacted their relationship. In the portrait, Munch’s father is holding a smoking pipe to his lips, his eyes following the pipe. Munch purposely paints his father as looking down instead of meeting his gaze or looking up, making him appear timid, anxious and avoiding confrontation. The black armchair Christian sits on is the same shade as his clothes and the pipe, causing the elements to blend into one another. This blending effect further suggests a discomfort with being viewed.
The exhibition discloses that Munch was known to paint portraits of his family as they engaged in quiet pursuits such as reading, but what is interesting is that the two portraits of his sisters that follow both have vibrant, moving and emotive backgrounds. They are motionless, looking into the distance, while the portrait of Munch’s brother, who followed his father’s footsteps in his vocation, is also set inside the house as he is studying. The many paintings in this exhibition bring forward a myriad of different personalities and relationships. Tensions between and within people are brought to the forefront in Munch’s work, perhaps as a reflection of his inner, hidden grief.
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