In an introductory essay & in commentaries that accompany the forty colorplates in the book, Thomas M. Messer, Director of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in New York, traces Munch's growth as an artist, placing him in the context of his times. He introduces the reader to the family scenes & familiar places that haunt Munch's art, & to the wider relationships-with writers, poets & patrons that nurtured Munch & sustained him in difficult times.
Edvard Munch was a Norwegian painter and printmaker whose intensely evocative treatment of psychological themes built upon some of the main tenets of late 19th-century Symbolism and greatly influenced German Expressionism in the early 20th century. One of his most well-known works is The Scream of 1893.
Being Norwegian, I'd known a bit about Munch since childhood, by osmosis as it were. There were Munch graphics all about, one of his versions of the Madonna-as-Vampire haunting the little me a bit. Later, in seminary in New York, I saw a Norwegian film about the artist down in the East Village. Finally, after seminary, I travelled to visit family in Oslo and spent an afternoon by myself in the Munch Museum there.
I picked this book up while back in Chicago a few years later. For me, it was a major, expensive purchase, but the plates were good and there was some discount. Still, it was irrational, an uncharacteristic expression of nationalism perhaps.
Name famous Norwegian artists, why don't you? Munch may stand alone as of global importance. Yet, if you go to the National Gallery in Oslo you'll see lots of art, much of it Norwegian. My stepbrother took us there back in 1984. An architect himself, he knew something of art and was able to point out several works which were by ancestors of myself, ancestors--barring great grand aunt Gerda, whom I'd me--about whom I knew next to nothing. Perhaps there was something even more primitive, something clannish, in my purchase of the Munch book.