Year 2017 is 125th anniversary of August Strindberg's portrait by Edvard Munch
Despite the tumult of their friendship, the two men were vital intellectual foils, as Sue Prideaux, the author of the superb "Edvard Munch: Behind the Scream" (2005), shows in her rich "Strindberg: A Life." They were part of a generation of writers and artists who in the last decades of the 19th century rebelled—not against science as such, Ms. Prideaux writes, but against the notion that there was a materialist explanation for everything. Instead, they strove for "a great renaissance of the soul against the intellect," she writes: "Munch was considered 'to paint souls' and Strindberg to write about them. Together they slaked the great thirst for the acknowledgment of the metaphysical."…”
I first came to know about
August Stindberg because I fell in love with his quote, used as an epigram by the late G A Kulkarni's (जी ए
कुलकर्णी) for his book "Pingla
Vel" (पिंगळा वेळ),
1977:
"Shallow people demand variety – but I have been writing the same
story throughout my life, every time trying to cut nearer the aching
nerve".
dated 1892, Location:
Museum of Modern Art, Stockholm, Sweden
Henrik Bering, WSJ, May 23 2012 writes:
“…While living in Paris in 1895, the Swedish author and
playwright August Strindberg asked his friend Edvard Munch to create a portrait
of him. Presented with the resulting lithograph, Strindberg was not entirely
satisfied: Munch had misspelled his name "Stindberg"—stind is Swedish
for "stout" and carries a suggestion of pompousness—and had placed a
naked woman along the border, which somewhat detracted from the seriousness of
the image. At their next encounter, without saying a word, Strindberg placed a
revolver on the table. Munch got the message: In the new version, he corrected
the spelling and removed the lady.
From then on, their friendship deteriorated rapidly.
Strindberg was given to absinthe-fueled paranoia, at one point believing that
assassins were lurking next-door, playing three grand pianos simultaneously. He
accused Munch of trying to kill him with a stream of gas through the wall and
fired off a postcard: "Your attempt to kill me by the Pettenkofer method
failed. Enjoyed the evening." Munch chose to leave town in a hurry.
Despite the tumult of their friendship, the two men were vital intellectual foils, as Sue Prideaux, the author of the superb "Edvard Munch: Behind the Scream" (2005), shows in her rich "Strindberg: A Life." They were part of a generation of writers and artists who in the last decades of the 19th century rebelled—not against science as such, Ms. Prideaux writes, but against the notion that there was a materialist explanation for everything. Instead, they strove for "a great renaissance of the soul against the intellect," she writes: "Munch was considered 'to paint souls' and Strindberg to write about them. Together they slaked the great thirst for the acknowledgment of the metaphysical."…”
