Women, Munch's hearts blood

For most, Edvard Munch (1863-1944) is best known as the artist of "The Scream," a recently ubiquitous image which--after appearances on T-shirts, keychains, a car commercial, and a life-size inflatable doll--currently serves as more of a wry nod to pop culture than a reminder of the existential despair and surrealism closer to its essence. A new exhibit at the Yale Art Gallery, Munch and Women: Image and Myth, offers an excellent opportunity to examine more comprehensively the work of this important artist by focusing on his depictions of women.

Since the painter lost both his mother and sister to tuberculosis in childhood, and had many troubled love affairs as an adult, this focus is an appropriate and revealing one. The 71 works on display vary wonderfully in subject matter and mood, undermining the common view of Munch as a misogynist. They instead suggest the breadth and complexity of his attitudes--a mixture of desire, worship, frustration, reverence, and, at times, deep empathy.

In an 1899 lithograph entitled "Three Stages of Woman (The Sphinx)," woman appears as an archetypal triad of distinct yet connected figures. The Virgin faces the eastern light, clothed in white and clasping her hands before her in a wholly innocent gesture that alludes to her chastity. In the middle stands the Whore, legs apart and cheeks flushed, offering herself as a carnal being. Leftmost is the Crone, her face gaunt and pale, her body completely engulfed in darkness. Woman here is shown as a mysterious phenomenon of the natural world, approaching mythic status. This conception is present elsewhere, too: "Alma Mater" portrays a pastoral scene of a mother amidst her children like a serene earth-goddess.

Many works in the exhibit, however, are much more disquieting. In "Vampire," a particularly striking image of rich, dark tones, a woman appears to be kissing a man on the back of his neck while leaning over him. There is some controversy over the title; Munch did not originally intend to portray vampirism, and a friend later suggested the name. In this light especially, the "vampire" woman seems to be menacing, nurturing, cruel, and divine all at once, suggesting the nuance in Munch's conception of the female identity. The woman is invested with a great and mysterious power. Though she transfixes the man, the scene remains deeply intimate and sensual.

The languorous "Madonna" of 1895 embodies a similarly uncanny power; it is unclear whether her eyes are closed or gaping or even hollow, creating an oneiric effect. In other images, woman undergoes multiple incarnations--charismatic society figure, ravenous harpy, coquettish showgirl, awkward pre-teen, and mere child bathing at a seashore.

People depicted in relationships often seem estranged and mute. The male and female forms in the woodcut "Encounter in Space" drift across one another on the same plane without meeting, like lovers who remain apart. Figures like those in "The Kiss," which seem merged, are still somehow tragic, isolated in the world with an almost unfathomable interiority. There is an overreaching sense of yearning throughout--for wholeness in love and for transcendence through suffering.

The exhibit's curator has prefaced each work's caption with poignant passages from Munch's personal writings and commentary from his contemporaries, thus bringing the viewer closer to a full understanding of the genesis of Munch's ideas. "I do not believe in an art which is not forced into existence by a human being's desire to open his heart," wrote Munch. "Art is your heart's blood."

All these works penetrate far into the core of the life of feeling--the moments of stillness and awkwardness, unity and rapture, loneliness and longing. Visitors will be confronted with images both universal and intensely personal that speak about not only women, but human relationships and the human condition as a whole.

Back to A & E...