Art & Critique

Edvard Munch: Madonna

At some point of my critiquing career I disliked Munch because I thought the man used too many symbols at the expense of mastering basic drawing skills. But at a later stage I realized that though his drawing often indeed isn’t perfect, it is not a sufficient reason to reject the artist and deprive his artwork of the feverishly sought for benefits of my analysis… On a more serious note, I recently reviewed a Munch monograph and fell in love with his strange, cold-fiery style. I think that his paintings resemble the kind of people we often encounter in books, described as cool-headed on the outside but violently intense and turbulent on the inside. I suppose that it is the visual power of symbolism, the generic category of most of Munch’s work, that can be ascribed the capacity to communicate the tumults boiling beneath the painterly surface. Eventually, it is difficult to remain untouched at the sight of almost scorching sadness that permeates much of the artist’s output.

Madonna, c.1895 Buy From Art.com

The ghastly white covering the Madonna’s face marks her as a dying woman. “Woman” here is a term: despite the title and the halo, she appears explicitly corporeally human, though detached and probably suffering. Sainthood almost intrudes; a thematic inconsistency with the obvious physical mood, it creates tension and brings to mind the patriarchal beautification of femininity. Thus the artist offers a social commentary, as the saying “a saint — or a whore” comes to mind. Perhaps by depicting the woman in the state of passing, Munch wished to protest the stereotype, and to express his conviction that it must be abandoned and left for dead. But this is also a very private image: I think that the black hair and the nudity define the protagonist as a witch — and the hands may be performing some kind of conjuration. In some ways, the private vision coincides with the social stigma the artist denounces.

Dance of Life, 1900 Buy From Art.com

The viewing angle positions the observer above the Madonna, and it may be just as interesting to determine whether the figure recedes or advances, because the sense of movement nearly overwhelms the viewer. I find the latter option more believable: the hands in the background remind of propeller blades, which force the woman forward. But there is a compromise involved in choosing this direction, as the head notably drops back, as if unwilling to come into contact. In the context of nudity and sexuality, her mind, circled by a halo resists physical intimacy, whereas her body yearns for it. Though she moves ahead, her thoughts turn the other way. This antagonism finds a curious way out in color distribution: the residue of the rich red of the halo on the nipples and navel. Besides the implicit artistic motive for this red pattern (a visual link between the upper and lower parts of the piece), there is also the symbolic one: sainthood becomes associated with reproduction and the nurture of future generations — a humanistic understanding of spirituality.

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This entry was posted on Saturday, November 17th, 2007 at 9:25 pm and is filed under Edvard Munch, Symbolism. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.