An artist, a bridge, a volcano - and the bottle!
Painters are a sad bunch, none more so than Munch.
On August 26-27, 1883, the island Krakatoa tore itself apart, literally vaporizing, to journey around Earth as airborne ash for several decades. As spectacular moody sunsets both fazed and fascinated people across this fair globe, the paranoid fared worse than most.
This acutely intrepid reporter, after viewing a documentary on Krakatoa referring to William Ashcroft’s meticulous paintings of orange ruby skies, and shortly afterwards while polishing up some articles on SheepOverboard, suddenly - on his ownsome - wondered if Munch’s inspiration for The Scream originated in the Krakatoa sunsets that would have persisted for maybe a decade or more after the years commonly ascribed.
That thought, damn it, is not only well taken care of by all and sundry in the art business but probably was obvious to Munch’s contemporaries. So I have a new theory, having read his bio, that the sky’s redness was due to bloodshot eyes of our guzzler-artiste.
[Ed. Speaking out of turn, without time to delve and on the face of it, what a stingy crew over at the Science & Society Picture Library, plastering their miserable watermark and credits all over Ashcroft's pictures. It's a public treasure, the things are locked away in drawers, they're in a foreign country (for most of us). Can't we at least have their lo-res images without the insult?]
Before sending you to some resources on this fascinating Munch meme, and dabbling in the sandbox of mirth spawned lovingly from his simulacra daubings, as an aside, let’s ponder historical accuracy with these accounts attributed to Munch, explaining his thoughts leading to painting The Scream. Did he say both?
Firstly, replicating on the Internet, this apparent direct quote:
I was going down the street behind two friends” wrote Munch in 1892. “The sun went down behind a hill overlooking the city and the fjord. I felt a trace of sadness and the sky suddenly turned blood red. I stopped walking, leaned against the railing, dead tired. My two friends looked at me and kept on walking. I watched the flaming clouds over the fjord and the city and my friends kept on. I stood there shaking with fear and I felt a great unending scream penetrate unending nature.” Another passage: “I felt a loud scream and I really heard a loud scream…. The vibrations in the air did not only affect my eye, but my ear as well because I really heard a scream. Then I painted The Scream” wrote Munch in 1892. Edvard Munch, from unpublished notes, kept in the Munch Museum, Oslo.
Second, from the horse’s mouth, The Munch Museum, is without quotes. Did they paraphrase or quote?
Munch has also written one of his many versions of the lyric prose text associated with the motif: I was out walking with two friends - the sun began to set - suddenly the sky turned blood red - I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence - there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city - my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety - and I sensed an endless scream passing through nature.”
Now to the real purpose of this page.
Searching for Scream images in Yahoo dredged dozens of variations of his original, most of them cheeky, and might we say, “fair use”?
If not, we could claim not to understand how the world takes advantage of “The Scream” for commercial use without permission from the Munch Museum and Munch’s family.” Yep, we could.
While the copyright holders are losing out, because they lack the clout of organizations like the Olympic Committee, it’s hard to deny the rest of us the freedom to take an image or thought that is clearly in the public domain purely because of its original universal appeal (whatever the legalities) and knock ourselves out with parody.
We all love The Scream, we worship it with .. craven with graven images, mimicry, caricature!
Bizarre theories abound on the Munch art thefts. Read the more astute asininities in Scream Stolen by Munch Gallery and Blue Dress escapes to rendezvous.
Asinine, I said.
