Edvard Munch

The Met Breuer: Hail, and Farewell

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava

Part Two of a series.

2,197 days.

I’m about to enter it for what would turn out to be the last time, on what would turn out to be its very last day. I’ll miss it.

That’s how long The Met Breuer (TMB) was open. March 8, 2016 (Member’s preview) through March 12, 2020, when it “temporarily closed” for the pandemic shutdown1. With the calendar turning to July, The Met’s time in the Breuer Building has ended, as I outlined in Part 1, making March 12th the final day it was open to the public. I was there on both its first and last day, and some in between. Though I regretfully missed some of TMB’s shows, I saw the major shows and a good many of the others. 

The Met Breuer, March 12, 2020.

My interest in The Met Breuer was born in curiosity. In May, 2011, they announced they would be taking over the Breuer building at 945 Madison Avenue.

“With this new space, we can expand the story that the Met tells, exploring modern and contemporary art in a global context that reflects the breadth of our encyclopedic collections. This will be an initiative that involves curators across the Museum, stressing historical connections between objects and looking at our holdings with a fresh eye and new perspective. This project does not mean that we are taking modern and contemporary art out of the Met’s main building, but it does open up the possibility of having space to exhibit these collections in the event that we decide to rebuild the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing where they are currently shown…” Met Director, Thomas P. Campbell, in The Met’s press release May 11, 2011. 

Going up. The elevator doors open onto Jack Whitten: Odyssey in October, 2018, one of the true blockbuster shows mounted at TMB.

After decades of being in denial about Modern & Contemporary Art’s worthiness of being in The Met, this marked a gigantic turn. Of course, it came 40 years too late to acquire most of the major works (or ANY of the major works) of some of the most important Artists of the past 40 years. Truth be told, I for one, was in agreement with The Museum about M&C Art from 1980 until about 2014, when I felt enough time had passed to begin to assess what had been done. A LOT of money had been invested in renovations to, and an 8 year lease on, the building Marcel Breuer had designed at 945 Madison Avenue at East 75th Street fo the Whitney Museum (see Part 1 for more on the history). The pressure was on. The Met, under then Director Thomas Campbell, had decided to make its mark in Modern & Contemporary Art, and brought Sheena Wagstaff on board from the Tate Modern, London, in January, 2012, as Chairman of the Department. What approach would Ms. Wagstaff (who’s shows at the Tate ranged from Edward Hopper to Jeff Wall), her staff and The Met take to M&C Art and how would it hold up against shows up at the Guggenheim, MoMA, The New Museum, The Whitney and the Brooklyn Museums?

Home is a Foreign Place, one of the 3 shows that closed TMB, drawn from recent additions to the Permanent Collection showed how far The Met’s collection of M&C has come.

Going into the opening, the press was all about how The Met was “hopelessly behind” NYC’s other Big Five museums, let alone those elsewhere in the country, in Contemporary Art. 2,197 days later, The Met Breuer has done the remarkable- It’s put The Met on that map. It did so by mounting a number of the most important shows of the past four years. From Nasreen Mohamedi and Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible, which opened TMB, to Gerhard Richter: Painting After All, which closed it. In between, Kerry James Marshall: Mastry, will remain it’s peak moment in my mind, though there were others. And there were a surprising number of revelations along the way.

Sol LeWitt was an Artist I never paid much attention to until I saw this work, 13/3, 1981, Painted balsa wood, in the Breuer’s show, , in December, 2017. Ever since, his work continues to fascinate me

Originally scheduled to be open as TMB until July 5th, it still would have closed with the Gerhard Richter and Home Is A Foreign Place: Recent Acquisitions In Context and From Gericault To Rockburne: Selections From The Michael & Juliet Rubenstein Gift, the final three shows on its 2020 schedule. While the legacy is complete, in terms of the shows mounted, the influence was cut short as countless thousands more would have gotten to see these shows over the approximately four months longer they would have remained open. 

For now, I look back at some Highlights from The Met Breuer. The name of each show, listed in no particular order, is linked to the piece I wrote about it at the time-

Approaching this work, I thought “What is a piece of textile doing here?” “Untitled, 1970s, Graphite and ink on paper,” the wall card read. Wait. What? This is a DRAWING? Then, all of a sudden, a loud click when off in my mind, and Art was never the same for me again.

Nasreen Mohamedi Revelations. That might be the word that lingers with me with I think about TMB. They began on Day 1…The first show I saw that first day at TMB remains my personal favorite of all the shows I saw there. I had no idea who Nasreen Mohamedi was when I got off the elevator that day on 2. But Sheena Wagstaff sure did.

Incomparable is the word I now use to describe Nasreen Mohamedi, who lived in obscurity for 53 years and gave away her Art as gifts. Seen here in one of the handful of existing Photos of her, this one has lingered in my mind from the first moment I saw it, here in a slide show in the final gallery in March, 2016.

The show included Photos taken by Ms. Wagstaff of the area of Nasreen’s unmarked grave well off the beaten path in Kihim, Mumbai, India. THAT’S passion. THAT’S dedication. At that moment I saw them, I knew TMB would be one of NYCs most important cultural institutions. 

Unfinished, Member’s Preview. The first look at one of the most memorable shows to appear at The Met Breuer, March 8, 2016. Work by Titian, left.

Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible. In the hundreds of years Art shows have been mounted, someone must have mounted one around this concept, right? I haven’t heard of it. If there was one, I doubt it was mounted as incredibly well and included rarely seen works by Michelangelo, Leonardo (the twin Kings of the unfinished work in the Renaisaance), Jan van Eyck, JMW Turner, and countless others. TMB’s first major blockbuster, and the other inaugural show in March, 2016, along with Nasreen Mohamedi. It belied The Met’s stated “mission” with TMB as “an outpost for Modern & Contemporary Art,” filling two floors, while the Nasreen got one. Given all the riches included, I have yet to hear anyone complain. Overall, over time, TMB was what The Museum said it would be.

Diane Arbus: In The Beginning was a revelation, as well, as much for the work as for the amazing way the show was installed- each of the over 100 pieces got its own wall- another thing I’ve never seen before. It also included a portrait of a departed friend of mine, Stormé DeLarverie, who told me more than once that it was she whose scuffle with police had incited the Stonewall uprising (she disagreed with the use of the term “riot.”), and that she had posed for Diane Arbus in 1961. At the time, I took both claims with grains of salt. Now, the world knows that both are facts, and in her gorgeous portrait by Ms. Arbus, which I snuck a shot of and show in my piece, Stormé will forever live on in The Met. In In The Beginning, she, fittingly, got a wall to herself.

The beginning of Kerry James Marshall: Mastry.

Kerry James Marshall: Mastry. As great a Painting show as I’ve seen in years. Maybe decades. 

Edvard Munch: Between the Clock and the Bed. A welcome reminder of the enduring accomplishment of this wonderful Artist who’s rarely seen in a show here. Between showed Mr. Munch is one of the very few Artists to successfully use techniques, styles and colors in realms that had only been used by Vincent van Gogh, who he was only 10 years younger than, and who he outlived by 54 years. 

Lichnos, 2008, at the entrance. 100 feet into this show my jaw was on the ground. It stayed there throughout.

Odyssey: Jack Whitten Sculpture, 1963-2017. Quick. Who’s the other Artist who is a Master of one medium, and who kept his mastery of another from public view his entire career? One stunning revelation after another that never let up. More remarkable for such a large show.

As I said in my piece on the show- “TWO whole museum floors of about 100 Paintings? My idea of heaven…” Having five floors at The Breuer added different dimensions to any number of shows, allowing a good number of shows to fill two whole floors- the kind of space that would be VERY hard to have at 1000 Fifth Avenue. The space between works at Gerhard Richter: Painting After All was one of its most memorable features and gave it an entirely different feel, allowing each work “space to breathe,” rare in big shows, and something I’ll miss very much.

Gerhard Richter: Painting After All. Exquisitely selected and hung, somehow managing to condense almost 6 decades of work into a selection that while not a “greatest hits” included enough of them, along with a good many surprises, and a chance to see the monumental Birkenau works. Unfortunately, it was open for all of NINE DAYS! It turns out that I saw it on its final day, at considerable risk. 

Along with other memorable shows-

Marsden Hartley’s Maine Marsden Hartley was unique and an Artist, though steeped in what the Europeans had and were doing, found his own ways. This was a show that served to open the mind, even in 2017, to the possibilities of Painting seen through a very free eye and mind in often daring fashion. A real breath of fresh air.

Marsden Hartley, Mont Sainte-Victoire, c.1927. Pretty daring to go to Aix-en-Provence and go toe-to-toe with the Master, Cezanne, in the land he made iconic. This work, in a show about Marsden Hartley’s work in Maine, this work set the stage for his bold brushwork and use of color in what would come.

Lygia Pape:A Multitude of Forms  No one medium could hold Lygia Pape’s vision, so the visitor to A Multitude of Forms was met with an ever-changing presentation that delighted the eye as much as it captured the mind.

Lygia Pape, Tetia 1, C, 1976-2004, Golden thread, nails, wood, lighting, a work that wonderfully characterized the ephemeral nature of Ms. Pape’s work in a show remembered for its endless variety and surprise. Seen at Lygia Pape: A Multitude of Forms, her first major show in a US museum in June, 2017.

Everything is Connected: Art and Conspiracy-

Rachel Harrison, Snake in the Grass, 1997. A work inspired by the Artist’s trip to Dealey Plaza, sight of JFK’s Assassination. While I was captivated by it, NHNYC Researcher Kitty said this work reminded her of being in her father’s garage.

And shows consisting of work from The Met’s Permanent Collection including-

Obsession: Nudes by Klimt, Schiele and Picasso From the Schofield Thayer Collection. With only 9 by Klimt and the majority by Shiele- no complaints here.

Provocations: Anselm Kiefer At The Met Breuer-

Anselm Kiefer, Iconoclastic Controversy, 1980, Gouache and ink on photograph, the wall card reads in part, “Rooted in the Second Commandment’s prohibition of graven images, the medieval debate involved the persecution of the artist-monks and the destruction of icons. Here he restaged the conflict in his studio with miniature versions of WWII tanks (one has destroyed a piece of clay in the shape of an artist’s palette)…The image links the iconoclastic battle to the Nazi’s attack on 
“degenerate art” in the late 1930s, which led to the destruction of hundreds of works of modern art.”

and Home Is A Foreign Place: Recent Acquisitions in Context. (Installation view of its lobby shown earlier)-

Mark Bradford, Crack Between the Floorboards, 2014. Can an Art writer have personal favorites? If he/she is a human being, it’s pretty hard not to. Mark Bradford is one of mine. So, I will long remember that this piece was the third to last work I saw on what turned out to be the closing day of The Met Breuer in the show Home Is A Foreign Place. The penultimate piece was Untitled, 1970, by Nasreen Mohamedi.

It’s fitting to end this piece with this show. Here, one could see just how far The Met’s Permanent Collection has come. Yes, there is a long way to go. Museums elsewhere in the US have built a lead in Contemporary Art that is, perhaps, insurmountable. But, The Met now has enough work in its own collection to mount fascinating shows like this. I was most impressed by the steps they’ve taken thus far as I looked at the acquisition dates on the items in Home Is A Foreign Place.

The very last work I saw at The Met Breuer is this piece from a series by Walid Raad, from 2014-5 in Home Is A Foreign Place. The wall card spoke about the Artist’s interest in the shadows these objects cast and how they enhance and expand the form. A bit like the shadow a museum visit casts…

And then, there were the shows I missed, like Vija Clemins. Phew…ALL of this in exactly 4 years! I think that’s a track record that can hang with what any of NYC’s other big museums- including The Met, 1000 Fifth Avenue.

Yes, there were a lot of very good, even great, shows at The Met Breuer during its four year run. You probably have your own list of favorites. Regardless of which show we’re talking about, the Breuer Building gave all of its shows the added dimension of space- often a whole floor, even two. There’s a lot to be said for that, and it will be very difficult to mount such shows at 1000 Fifth Avenue2. I’ll miss the place as The Met Breuer. I already cherish the days I got to spend there.

This is the Second part of my look back at The Met Breuer. Part 1 is here. Some thoughts on the “bigger picture” are coming.  

*- Soundtrack for this post is “Hail & Farewell” by Big Country. “Hail and farewell, Life begins again…”

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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  1. By my count. Subtract 10 days if you want to count from its official opening on March 18th. ↩
  2. The huge China: Through the Looking Glass Fashion show in 2015 was mounted in different parts of The Met, which probably remains the only way to do it. ↩

Edvard Munch: Between The Canvas & The Camera

Edvard Munch (1863-1944) is mostly known in the USA for The Scream, so, Edvard Munch: Between The Clock & The Bed, at The Met Breuer was something of a revelation, an all too rare chance to see a selection of his work, in this case 43 Paintings, and see a bit more of what the Norwegian Artist was all about. The fact that more than half of the works on view remained in his collection until his death gave it a personal feel. Munch, who never married, considered his Paintings to be his children. So, when he passed away in January, 1944, he bequeathed his collection to the city of Oslo- 1,100 Paintings, 4,500 Drawings and 18,000 Prints, now housed in the Munch Museum.

Installation view of the entrance at The Met Breuer.

The personal feeling was heightened by the fact the show included 16 self-portraits, created over the 6 decades he was active. And so, we get to see the changing face of Edvard Munch-

Self-Portrait, 1886, Oil on canvas. Age 23. The first work Munch signed, created using a spatula and by scratching the surface, in some areas, baring the canvas.

Self-Portrait with Cigarette, 1895, Oil on canvas.

The Night Wanderer, 1923-24, Oil on canvas.

Self-Portrait: Between the Clock and the Bed, 1940-43, Oil on canvas. In his last significant “self-scrutiny” as he referred to his self-portraits, he stands before the faceless clock and bed, in front of his Paintings, facing mortality, and immortality.

Munch’s journey saw him experiment with a variety of styles, including Impressionism. But, even early on, as seen in his “Self-Portrait,” 1886, above, he showed signs of breaking out and finding his own way. Once he did, there is a strain in his mature work that is, famously, characterized by a depth of feeling that regularly includes agony and isolation, which he expresses in a style uniquely his own. Those works are what is mostly seen at The Met Breuer, and they proved captivating in one of the best shows thus far in 2018.

Ashes, 1925, Oil on canvas. The anguished man..the sensuous woman, and the log in the rear turning to ashes, it’s flame apparently gone out…

In these works, he’s moved beyond “Impressionism,” and all that’s left is raw emotion, powerfully and poignantly expressed in unusual poses and striking compositions.

Sleepless Night: Self-Portrait in Inner Turmoil, 1920, Oil on canvas

In another Self-Portrait, Sleepless Night: Self-Portrait in Inner Turmoil, 1920, the walls, floors and table surfaces seem to vibrate, and fade into other dimensions, as if the spaces themselves are emoting. Here and in the later Self-Portraits, Munch has also moved past the great self-portraitist, Van Gogh, to reveal himself at seemingly odd and unexpected random moments. The loneliness in these self-portraits as an older man is still somewhat startling, something rarely seen in Art History to that point. Michelangelo’s, apparent, inclusion of himself as Nicodemus in The Deposition aka The Florentine Pieta,” and, of course, Rembrandt’s late Self-Portraits being two that come to mind.

Of course, any discussion of loneliness, pain and agony in Munch must include The Scream.

The Scream, 1895, Lithographic crayon. The inscription near the lower right, reads, “I felt a loud unending scream piercing nature.”

At The Met Breuer,The Scream was included in an 1865 version done in lithographic crayon, Interestingly, he has rendered virtually the entire composition in lines, except for the coats and the sides of the railing. But, the highlight of this show was the chance to see precursors of The Scream, which I had never seen before.

Sick Mood at Sunset: Despair, 1892, Oil on canvas. A precursor to the first version of The Scream, 1983, The wall card says Munch referred to this work as “the first Scream.”

On January 22, 1892, while in Nice, where he painted Sick Mood at Sunset: Despair, Munch recorded in his diary an event that took place years earlier in Norway, “I was walking along the road with two friends. The sun set. I felt a tinge of melancholy. Suddenly the sky became a bloody red. I stopped, leaned against the railing, dead tired and I looked at the flaming clouds that hung like blood and a sword over the blue-black fjord and city. My friends walked on. I stood there trembling with fright. And I felt a loud, unending scream piercing nature.”

Despair, 1894, Oil on canvas.

These two take an opposite, introverted approach to the famous Scream. As such, they seem much more in character with the Edvard Munch seen in the rest of this show (admittedly, a low single digit percentage of his Painted output), and so serve to sharpen the feeling that The Scream is that rare moment of extroverted outburst that so many of his other works keep just below the surface. All three works (counting the Painted “Scream,” not here) are marvelously original, with searingly burning skies that even Van Gogh might have envied. The two above are masterpieces in their own right, in my view.

Photo, circa 1870, showing the Ljaborveien road Munch depicts. Oslo is in the background.

The show also included an 1870 Photo of the Ljaborveien road Munch depicts. It was here that Munch “felt a loud, unending scream piercing nature,” which he would immortalize over two decades later.

Starry Night, 1922-24, Oil on canvas. Even this late in his career, the influence of Van Gogh remains, here as a jumping off point. Note the two shadowy figures.

As I moved through this marvelous show, while bearing in mind that these works are only a tiny percent of his oeuvre, I couldn’t help but feel that after he left Impressionism behind, the influence of Vincent Van Gogh lingered. Of the countless Artists who have been similarly influenced, Edvard Munch is one of the very few who’s work would make an interesting counterpoint if hung along side his.

“The Sick Child,” 1907, Oil on canvas. One of the seminal works in Munch’s career.

Whereas Vincent never shows us pain in an actual event, leaving us to feel it, and everything else, in the “quiet” scenes he shows us after, like in his Self Portrait with Bandaged Ear,or in the garden scenes of the hospital he’s in. Edvard Munch shows us the events, like The Scream, and his terminally ill sister in The Sick Child, 1907, and this seemingly inconsolable woman, below, in Weeping Nude, 1913-14, as if to let us feel what he’s feeling and see why. The deaths of his mother when he was 5, and then that of his beloved sister, Sophie, when Munch was 13, both from tuberculosis (despite the fact that his father was a physician), stayed with him the rest of his life. He created six versions of The Sick Child, (the one above is #3), using a different model, over FORTY years (between 1885 and 1927), such was it’s hold on him. Therefore, it’s hard to think Painting these scenes were “therapeutic” for him.

Weeping Nude, 1913-14, Oil on canvas.

Edvard Munch: Between the Clock and the Bed shows an Artist who stands apart. He found his own way, apart from everything else that was going on in the Art world during his time. In an Art world full of genres, I find it refreshing that his work doesn’t really belong in one, as a reminder that no Artist’s work does. And? As I discovered in an interesting satellite show, Like Edgar Degas, Thomas Eakins, and other Artists of the time who are generally considered Painters, it turns out that Edvard Munch was, also, an avid Photographer.

Edvard Munch, Self-Portrait on the Beach with Brushes and Palette in Warnemunde, 1907, Printed from a collodion contact print. Perhaps channeling Gauguin in Tahiti.

If his Painting is not as well known here as it should be, his Photography is completely unknown. Into the void came the Scandinavian House who mounted a thorough show of these works (along a few graphics, and his experiment with filmmaking), titled Edvard Munch: The Experimental Self, as a satellite to The Met Breuer’s show. Part of the reason his Photography is unknown is that his surviving Photographs are extremely fragile. So much so, they had to be scanned and reproduced to be displayed here.

Edvard Munch strikes what would turn out to be a familiar pose in the introduction to this surprising show of his Photography and Films.

As I’ve been exploring the world of Contemporary Photography intensely since December, 2016, one thing that’s become apparent to me is that a surprising number of Painters have, also, been Photographers of varying degrees of seriousness, and almost none of them have had their Photography taken seriously- either by the Art world or by the world of Photography. Edvard Munch is yet another Painter who explored Photography. In his case, “explored” might be the best term to characterize his approach.

Scandinavian House Installation view. 3 prints in the far gallery, Photographs in the near gallery.

Munch considered himself an amateur as a Photographer, though he was pleased with the results he got and said that he planned on preparing this work for display at some point. It is interesting that none of the Photographs on view were, apparently, studies for subsequent Paintings, even with, as in The Met Breuer show, so many Self-Portraits included.

Self-Portrait wearing glasses and seated, with two Watercolors at Ekely, 1930, Print after an original silver gelatin print. Munch, hauntingly, with parts of two of his works, in, perhaps, a double exposure?

Munch Photographed during two periods. First, between 1902 and 1910, a period that began with the tumultuous end of a relationship during which one of the Artist’s fingers was mutilated by a gunshot, and ended with a rest cure for “emotional turmoil,” and again between 1927 and the mid-1930s, a period that began with the success of retrospectives in Berlin and Oslo and ended with a hemorrhage that temporarily impaired his vision in his right eye.

4 Self-Portraits, all taken in 1930. Munch was, apparently, very fond of this very serious pose, taken by himself with an extended arm, or with a cable shutter release, as it appears over and over again at different times, as seen here.

The “revelations” I found in his Photography was that along with the fact that he was his own preferred model with a camera, his poses are more serious. This may be due to the need to hold still during the long exposure times, but it does offer an interesting counterpoint to the Edvard Munch we see in his Paintings and Prints, where he seems more “natural.” It also appears that Munch was one of the first Artists obsessed with the “selfie,” and given how many variations he made with the same pose makes one wonder if Andy Warhol knew about them.

Courtyard at Pilestredet 30B, 1902, Original contact print on silver gelatin paper. I prefer this interesting shot of one of his childhood homes. He moved the camera while the shutter was opened and he, too, apparently liked the results enough to sign it.

The Photographs don’t portray the isolation and loneliness, nor the depth of emotion and expression his Paintings do. Therefore, it seems to me they will be considered an appendix to his Paintings and Graphic work, of interest, primarily, to Munch specialists.

Detail of Munch and the faceless clock in Between the Clock and the Bed.

All in all, Edvard Munch has been a figure who’s notoriety largely rests on one work, The Scream. It’s a work that speaks to the depth of feeling that characterizes a good many of the rest of his Paintings seen at The Met Breuer. The show proved his Paintings retain their power to speak to us and they reward both close, and repeat, looking. Perhaps even more than the Impressionists, Edvard Munch, working away in isolation in Oslo, created Paintings & Prints that resonates with our time. Like that clock with no hands, the emotions he Paints are timeless.

Edvard Munch: Between the Clock and the Bed is my NoteWorthy show for March, though it ended on February 4th. Edvard Munch: The Experimental Self ended on April 7th.

*- Soundtrack for this Post is “Forlorn,” by Weather Report, which may be heard here.

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited.
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