A Study in Munch (the artist, not the verb...although that would be tasty)

When people ask me what I studied in college and I reply with art history, they usually respond in one of two ways. The first is by asking whether I paint or draw, assuming that I am an artist. The second is to reply with a generic “oh that’s neat!” I can tell, however, by the blank look in their eyes that they have no idea what art history entails. Art historians study the evolution of the visual arts throughout time and the important role that art plays in the development of culture. Art historians approach a piece of art in two ways: we examine the history/artist/time period of a work of art—called contextual analysis—and just as, if not more importantly we use our eyes and sometimes other senses to examine the visual qualities (color, technique, composition, etc.) of a work of art—called visual analysis. The contextual aspect of a work of art is often quite fixed but it is the visual one that is personal and varies from viewer to viewer. It is this sensual and visually stimulating aspect of art that first drew me to study the history of art. Below is my visual analysis of one of history’s most famous paintings, The Scream, by the Norwegian artist Edvard Munch.

Immediately my eyes are drawn to a pale figure in the foreground whose mouth is open as if screaming and whose hands are pressed to its face in abject terror. One can almost see this scream vibrating across the canvas in the form of the painting’s wavy strokes. The sky is laced with thick, vibrant ribbons of fiery orange and yellow which contrast with the somber black and cool blue that make up the rest of the scene. These contrasting colors produce a mood of turmoil and conflict. The figure seems to be standing on a bridge that cuts the painting with a strong diagonal. The gravitational force of this diagonal conjures up a sense of inevitable fate. Two tall figures looming in the background appear to be steadily approaching the main figure which combined with the position of the viewer in front of the figure creates the sense that the figure’s position is inescapable.  

Beauty Amid the Brokenness

It is not an infrequent sight to find me taking an evening beach walk by myself; I am an introvert, so I recharge by being alone with my thoughts and for me, this is often outdoors with a camera in hand. Last week I took the following photo while on one of these strolls.  As I was walking back to my house I noticed this patch of weeds growing beside a fence. Now often people just walk by weeds but I couldn’t help but be struck by their color and beauty.  I made my way over to them and despite being attacked by a swarm of blood lusty mosquitoes, I refused to recede until I had taken a couple photos.  One of my life mottos as you can see on my profile is that good things come in small packages. I firmly believe that the little things and private moments that are often taken for granted make life so much sweeter and interesting. Ask anyone who knows me well and they will tell you that I have always had a deep appreciation for the small, simple and perhaps even what some would consider the mundane things of life.

 

While looking at this photo on my computer it got me to thinking (no surprise there).  These weeds which are considered undesirable and inconsequential are not unlike humans when compared to the powerful, holy, infinite God of the universe. How thankful I am that our gracious Lord was able to find beauty in the brokenness and insignificance of man! When I start to feel downcast or resentful about life (which is more frequent sometimes than I would like) I try to focus on the little things around me; I cannot remain sad for long because it reminds me that I am the daughter of an omnipotent creator God who found beauty amid the brokenness.



 

A Beautiful, Poignant Prayer

The Awakened Sinner

From Valley of Vision

 

O my forgetful soul,

Awake from your wandering dream;
turn from chasing vanities,
look inward, forward, upward,
view yourself,
reflect upon yourself,
who and what you are, why here,
what you must soon be.
You are a creature of God,
formed and furnished by him,
lodged in a body like a shepherd in his tent;
Do you not desire to know God’s ways?

O God,

You injured, neglected, provoked Benefactor
when I think upon your greatness and your goodness
I am ashamed at my insensibility,
I blush to lift up my face,
for I have foolishly erred.
Shall I go on neglecting you,
when every one of your rational creatures
should love you,
and take every care to please you?
I confess that you have not been in all my thoughts,
that the knowledge of yourself as the end of
my being has been strangely overlooked,
that I have never seriously considered
my heart-need.
But although my mind is perplexed and divided,
my nature perverse,
yet my secret dispositions still desire you.
Let me not delay to come to you;
Break the fatal enchantment that binds
my evil affections,
and bring me to a happy mind that rests in you,
for you have made me and canst not forget me.
Let your Spirit teach me the vital lessons of Christ,
for I am slow to learn;
And you hear my broken cries