Showing posts with label Edvard Munch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edvard Munch. Show all posts

21 March 2025

Translation: Francis Jammes, It's going to snow

Edvard Munch, New Snow in the Avenue, 1906

This is Bora Mici's original French to English translation of the poem "Il va neiger" or "It's going to snow" by the French 19th- to 20th-century poet Francis Jammes. Even though it is currently the beginning of spring in the Washington, DC area, I was feeling somewhat nostalgic for winter's silence and was drawn to this poem in Georges Pompidou's anthology of French poetry. What I like about this poem is its background of snow falling and the constant and enduring everyday quality of the objects it describes. It evokes a sense of peace and comfort and quiet and eternity, and a reckoning with our innermost strivings to change the world around us by labelling things and thus seeking to possess them and make our imprint on them.  

Francis Jammes, Il va neiger... by Bora Mici

It’s going to snow…

It is going to snow in a few days. I recall
a year ago. I remember my sad thoughts
by the fire pit. If you had asked me though: what is it?
I would have said: let me alone. It’s nothing at all.

I have thought long, last year, in my room, I remember
whilst the heavy snow fell out the door,
My thoughts were naught. Now as before
I am smoking a wooden pipe with an end piece of amber.

My old chest of drawers still smells good of oak,
I was stupid because so many things
could not change and it’s just posing
to want to estrange the things we cannot stoke.

So why do we think and speak? It’s
our tears and kisses, they, don’t speak, [funny thing;
and yet we understand them, and the steps
of a friend are sweeter than sweet words linked.

We have baptized the stars without much thought
and they did not need a name, and the numbers,
which prove that the pretty comets in dark slumbers
will pass, all the same, will not make them change their lot.

And even at this moment, where are my sad fits
from last year? I barely remember them.
I would persevere: Leave me alone, it’s nothing ahem,
if you came into my room to ask me: what is it?

28 September 2010

Edvard Munch at the National Gallery of Art

Courtesy of the National Gallery of Art

In an intimate setting at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, 59 of Edvard Munch's prints are displayed from now until October 31, 2010. Sometimes referred to as a Synthetist, a Symbolist, sometimes more broadly as a Post-Impressionist, and most often as a progenitor of Expressionism, the Norwegian artist is often identified through the expression of intense human emotion in his work. The Master Prints exhibition reveals a methodical streak in Munch's thematic unity of expression and does not overwhelm with the inclusion of his entire ouvre. Instead, it focuses on five discreet themes that the curators, Andrew Robinson and Elizabeth Prelinger have identified in the grouping they have assembled from three separate collections - the National Gallery's own collection of Munch prints, the Epstein family's collection, and the Blitz/Woodard collection in New York.

The intimacy that the small rooms, painted a deep navy blue, afford in the East Wing of the National Gallery is unprecedented. A close up view of the profile portrayal of his sister Sophie in The Sick Child shows the softness of linework that Munch achieves through lithography. With four renditions of the same image side by side, the power of repetition evinces a delicate regard for the subject, which Munch renders in cherry, red and yellow tones. The image appears scribbled with crayons, as if a small child had made it, but the boldness of composition is that of a seasoned artist.

It is impossible to make it through the exhibit without noticing compositional similarities in Munch's work. He centers the subject on the plate, the woodblock, or the stone - depending on the printmaking technique he is using - and prints a usually flattened composition that emphasizes color and bold strokes over depth. One of his last works, Kiss in the Field of 1943, is composed very similarly to Toward the Forest of 1897 with the figures set as outlines against an atmospheric background. Two Women on the Shore of 1898 also depicts two central figures, but in this case, the background is fragmented around the central subject, and Munch experiments with various intensities of color and texture to evoke the lone silhouettes of a young woman on the shore with death at her side.

The exhibit focuses on his technique and the variations Munch explores, rather than the biographical details that might have influenced his work. Two sets of dates accompany each print noting the creation of the printing matrix against the actual printing date, which usually came much later. Textual explanations throughout the exhibit refer to Munch's use of intaglio, woodblock or lithographic process, his habit of breaking a woodblock into pieces and then adjoining them to make a print, which in one instance of Two Women on the Shore, embosses the paper and defines disparate zones of color and depth that almost detach themselves from a compositional unity.

One of the first prints in the exhibit, a lithograph of Evening on Karl Johan Street of 1895, depicts a flattened street view with several ghoulish figures staring out of the composition and creates an instantaneous visual connection to Munch's Anxiety series, on which his most famous work, The Scream, is based. Themes that reappear in Munch's work include the tension between piety and sexuality, the myth of the fall, love, death and loneliness. A curious paradox that persists in Munch's work and that of the Expressionists is that the urgency of depicting an inner world through expressive linework and color participates in a self-conscious and self-questioning cultural context, which constructed itself as a measured reaction to the scientism of the Impressionists.