Death is pitch-dark, but colors are light. To be a painter, one must work with rays of light.
EDVARD MUNCHI learned early about the misery and dangers of life, and about the afterlife, about the external punishment which awaited the children of sin in Hell.
More Edvard Munch Quotes
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This kind of painting with its large frames is a bourgeois drawing-room art. It is an art dealer’s art-and that came in after the civil wars following the French Revolution.
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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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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.
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Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.
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I don’t believe in an art that is not born out of man’s need to open his heart.
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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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It is better to have a good painting with ten holes than ten bad paintings without any holes.
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Art comes from joy and pain, But mostly from pain.
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Just as Leonardo da Vinci studied human anatomy and dissected corpses, so I try to dissect souls.
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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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But can they great works get rid of the worm that lies gnawing at the roots of my heart? No, never.
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Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
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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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I build a kind of wall between myself and t he model so that I can paint in peace behind it. Otherwise, she might say something that confuses and distracts me.
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Any number of holier-than-thou honorable realists walk around in the belief that they have accomplished something, simply because they tell you for the hundredth time that a field is green and a red-painted house is painted red.
EDVARD MUNCH