(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)
William Ritter: Edvard Munch
Translated by Svein Erik Sørland. Pax publishing company, 2015.
It was in the years 1902 – 1907 that the doors to the continent really opened to Edvard Munch: In 1902 he was invited home to Dr. Max Linde to create a series of erasures; In March 1903 he exhibited at Paul Cassier's Art Salon in Berlin, and the same month he went to Paris to attend the Salon des Indépendants, where he attracted international attention. At the Salon three years later, the Fauvist were presented together and with full weight, together with, among others, Munch, who was also perceived as Fauvist. Munch exhibited in the same room as Louis Karsten, Jean Puy, Henri Manguin, Albert Marquet and Kees van Dongen. In the summer of 1906, Munch traveled back to Åsgårdstrand, where he obtained many portrait orders. In 1906 he also made the first drafts of the so-called Reinhardt Frieze.
At the same time, the formally most innovative artists internationally began to take an interest in Munch's art, including Emil Nolde, Ernst Ludwig-Kirchner and Karl Schmidt-Rottluff. It was these who were inspired by Munch, not the other way around. In other words, it was Munch who set the standard for what modern art should look like.
Interesting tracking. Probably Munch's art was perceived as very difficult to characterize. Should he be seen as a shapeless anarchist who was looking to scorn all bourgeois ideals? As a pioneering colorist and graphic artist? Like a morbidly decadent dope painter? The latter seems to have been the case for the then internationally renowned art critic William Ritter (1867–1955). Knight's review and criticism of Munch's art are both hysterically funny, well-written and in many ways apt, albeit on completely different terms than the critic himself imagined. He must probably be considered a historical derailment – though an interesting and entertaining one. Besides, he represented something far more than one person's opinion: He represented the meaning of an entire era.
Aesthetics of honesty. This Artes release consists of six parts: The main text, William Ritter's critical review of Munch's artistic work until then (1905), is followed by an afterword by art historian Øivind Storm Bjerke, who places the critic Ritter in his proper historical context. Then we find the notes for the afterword, as well as an overview of literature and sources, before we get a picture appendix with those of Munch's paintings that Ritter has mentioned. Finally, we find out where the mentioned pictures of the painter hang today.
Should Munch be seen as a shapeless anarchist who was looking to mock all bourgeois ideals?
Storm Birke's contribution could well have been left out: That Ritter's art considerations are different from our times, and that Ritter experience images rather than describe them, as today's art criticism usually does, both are easy to determine. However, when he comes to the role of "ugliness" and "aesthetic aesthetics" played in contemporary art understanding, his text becomes interesting.
In my eyes, William Ritter is brilliant, precisely because of his unintentional naivety and inability to look past his own historical preferences (which may not be possible for anyone), Munch's art describes in a very refreshing way. His language stands out favorably from today's art-critical discourse, which is often abstract, created from a critique that will be its own reality, and has distanced itself from art itself. Today's art criticism is often based on the idea that it is criticism that creates art, not the other way around. My claim is that the art criticism of today is created to be at the forefront of development – but that the development it wants to be at the forefront is often unattractive.
Cool excitement. William Ritter's view of art was based on a tradition that loved the bourgeois salon art, where the art was to imitate nature. But instead of Ritter's text becoming boring, or just plain stupid, it becomes – despite Ritter's standing as someone who has long since passed away – rather to be perceived as spiritual, elegantly worded and in many ways precise.
Male needs not to like Munch's art. Many who do this do not even know why. They have just learned that Munch is a good artist. William Ritter has a completely different historical proximity to the painter. No one has to believe that they know what the future judgment of contemporary art will be – no one can push the boundaries of their own historical framework conditions. This is what many people forget – and judging William Ritter in the light of posterity is therefore unfair. He described Munch's art as best he could, based on the conditions of his time. And he described it well – albeit on erroneous premises. Just hear: "This cool-painting, cool-stirring Norwegian work will get the judgment of time like any other screaming work made without regard to eternal moral principles, or to physical duration."
Grimace of grief. Of course, Ritter was wrong. But what then? In his opinion, Munch's art emerged as "one of its [ie, today's] most morbid manifestations." This was Knight's subjective opinion, and who can judge him the? After all, he knew his own time better than you and me. On the basis of contemporary judgment, Munch stood as the main representative of the most decadent art – and Ritter wrote only what most people believed. Criticism is not a divination art. It is not all about being right about the future, but also about how credibly one is able to set the framework for one's own performances. And Ritter did this in an outstanding way. Among the blind, he was the one who looked the best.
"Are you kidding me, or am I not being tall?"
Historical art criticism has its undoubted value when it is as erroneous and well-worded as this one. The more "mistakes" one gets, the better it gets, I would argue. Just hear: "The only thing I can see in these paintings is a grimace of sadness."
Who can't say the same about Munch if they dare? However, Ritter was wise enough to admit that he may not recognize the art of its new form. In doing so, he was far more sensible than many of today's art critics, who, with their often oblique and prejudiced attitudes, are pushing the very latest to their chest, while rejecting what they believe represents an old-fashioned and for them "false" art understanding. William Ritter writes, "Are you kidding me, or am I not being tall?"
Blood over the canvas. When did a critic of today show this openness? Ritter was honest and truth-seeking in his work. What more can an art critic do? Of course, one might object, his moral assessment of the art is completely lost. On the other hand: He had no difficulty in granting Munch a place in art history, albeit somewhat reluctantly: "I have never felt as perplexed and thoughtful as in front of this Norwegian's paintings." Negative or positive? Further: "One would think someone had quite a jar of blood over the canvas." It is aptly! Ritter becomes almost lyrical – albeit with a negative sign – when he writes: “Oh, what a terrible child painter this man is. With a bacteriological imagination filled with thoughts about fetuses! ”
I can't help but wish that more of today's art criticism could be like William Ritter's: subjective, visionary, moralistic, linguistic original – and open to the fact that it can go wrong. Not fashionable, righteous and full of abstract concepts.
