Oslo, Edvard Munch’s Hood

A Memorial Weekend spent in Oslo, Norway, couldn’t have taken me further away from the shores of the U. S. of A. where backyard barbecues and baseball games are typically the norm.  The unpredictable May weather was an ongoing topic of conversation with everyone, even at immigration, and as the airport train pulled into downtown Oslo’s National Theater station, it was clear that we’d need umbrellas. The 20 minute trek to the “Sentrum” was painless except for the cost … out of the taxi we found ourselves tallying the total including the 5 minute ride from the station to our hotel in Tjuvholmen, Oslo’s hip and happening new neighborhood. It seemed like an awful lot.*

A chilling wind was blowing off the Oslofjord which edges the city center and the ultramodern neighborhood, which is dissected into quadrants of gleaming high rise apartments and offices. It has the appearance of a kind of Scandinavian Soho albeit 100 years in the future with a marina and a tiny beach for those desiring a more intimate experience with all the water. Connecting the series of little islands are big pedestrian bridges of shining steel and cable and almost hidden walkways wind around the glass and concrete monoliths, obviously the workplaces and residences of Oslo’s elite.  With fjord views and a waterside promenade that hums with commercial energy, as well as the prize presence of Renzo’s Piano’s architectural feat, the Astrup Fearnley Museum, it’s a part of this compact metropolis that’s visually stimulating.  Well, maybe not on this morning.

I was here for a look at Norwegian culture, specifically as it pertained to Edvard Munch, the Norwegian artist famous for his seminal work, The Scream, and celebrating his 150^th anniversary this year with a big bash of an exhibit in Oslo and assorted events all over Norway.  The Scream, of which 4 versions were produced by the artist, has an interesting history (aside from its creator) since one of the four was famously stolen in 2005, subsequently recovered and purchased by New York’s MOMA for an astronomical sum. I learned all of this on a recent Sunday when I managed to dodge the museum crowds and finally get a glimpse of a work of art with which I’d had a lifelong fascination.  As I approached it, one of 2 pastels he executed and displayed in melodramatic darkness save for a solitary spot, I was soothed by his warm, fiery colors.  It was a Mona Lisa moment. Peering at a man who was clearly troubled, there was no mistaking his state of desperation.

Today, standing in the park-like setting of Ekeberg, where Munch had long ago experienced that moment of disturbing anxiety and decided to render it, I couldn’t help but wonder. Why? After a full-on wet and rainy day the midnight sun had finally broken through at dusk and a clear view to the stunning Snohetta designed opera house (and Oslo’s adjacent “new neighborhood” build-out) was a sign of good things to come, hopefully more than just better weather.  I was joining a group for dinner at a place called Ekebergrestauranten, a landmark contemporary space high above the city and in fact, close to where Munch had his breakdown moment. Aside from being curious about what could have possessed poor Edvard to have a panic attack here (perhaps, finances?), I was more wondering about the city’s visible expansion of its waterfront and restoration. Would he approve if he was still around?

That these observations were not exclusive to me was confirmed the next day when we heard about the ongoing struggle to build a new Munch museum for his impressive body of work.  The existing Munch Museum which was closed when I visited (being readied for the 150^th Exposition) is located just outside the city center and not central to the burgeoning cultural scene here. We’d rented some Oslo City Bikes and hired a private guide who seemed to know the juicy goings on both past and present. It’s been rumored that the existing museum doesn’t quite measure up to the artist’s accomplishments.  Once you catch sight of even a little bit of his work, you realize that Oslo should ante up (like Paris with its Picasso Museum) and in fact shortly after I returned it was announced that ground would be broken soon on a new Munch Museum in the new “fjord city” adjacent to the Opera House. But this is just the tip of the iceberg in a city that has no less than 50 museums.  And I thought New York wore the cultural crown.

Oslo, my friends, is quite ready and poised to compete with the best of Europe’s capitals. Thanks to oil and natural gas, Norway is quite a prosperous place. So, while aiding the carbon footprint of the city and saving some bucks on taxis, we were treated this warm and sunny day to Oslo’s denizens, out and promenading.  Diehard New Yorkers both of us, we couldn’t quite get over that it seemed like summer had arrived in a single day.  In the spirit of the awesome weather we chose to tour on bikes where we learned about the layers of history that Oslo has under its belt and how to navigate the city. Hint:  it’s not very difficult. Picking up our bicycles in front of the landmark Nobel Prize Peace Center in Aker Brygge, we were told about the notorious Tram #12 which weaves its way around this upscale commercial and residential waterfront neighborhood adjacent to the marina and Tjuvholmen where we were staying.

It became a regular fascination to watch the comings and goings of that tram, in fact, all of Oslo’s trams.  They connect to the city and its people and are a lifeline of sorts as alternative transportation is expensive.  We’d carelessly hopped a cab for our visit to Ekeberg that first night and it was almost $50 U.S. It didn’t seem possible, we’d only driven about 5 miles, but when we saw the sun peek out over the city after all the rain, we forgot about the cost.  At least momentarily, for in the coming days we’d weigh the cost of every beer, drink, or slice of pizza we’d order and when we sat down to lunch at the café of the Grand Hotel that hugs a pedestrian promenade just past a lovely park and the National Theater, you can be sure we didn’t order wine. The square, which abuts the yellow brick Parliament building, is a hub of activity day and night and on this sunny Saturday its main street, Karl Johansgate, was teeming with people enjoying the amazing weather.  After getting the low down on how the 2 lions in front were sculpted (a story for another rainy day), we began to scratch away at the surface of Norway’s cultural pedigree, one that’s as complex as Mr. Munch’s frightening subject.

Dodging pedestrians, we pedaled around the historic center, up to the Akershus Fortress, a medieval castle from 1299 that looks out over the entire city, then down past the old city hall to the newer one.  Oslo rådhus, as it’s called, is an imposing brown brick structure that after 20 years in the making was inaugurated in 1950.  It has the look of the Communist era with linear architecture and two towers, one with a clock and the other with a bell tower that chimes every hour. Our guide confided that it was hated by some and revered by others; regardless, it’s the single most noticeable structure in town. Famous for hosting the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony every year on December 10, it’s more a cultural gold mine than a City Hall. The hoopla here is the over the top public spaces inside, richly decorated with huge, colorful murals and paintings by no less than 13 Norwegian artists that tell a convoluted story of the history of the country and its people. Munch’s painting “Fritjof Nansens plass” is just one of them, found in a second floor gallery. After climbing a long marble staircase we were floored first by the size of it (big!) then by the composition. Depicting a fanciful outdoor scene, it shows a side of the artist that is not the same as the angst-ridden one and that in itself was a revelation.  Clearly, our Norwegian poster boy also had a strong affinity for the French Impressionists and was digging into everything he’d learned while studying and living abroad in Paris, away from his beloved Norway … like bucolic scenes, not psychological themes.

Bucolic scenes were certainly on display the next day when we hopped a mini cruise of the Oslo fjord to Bygdøy, one of Norway’s oldest cultural landscapes, a huge park-like peninsula on the western side of Oslo. It was hot enough to do some serious sunbathing and sitting placidly with a cold Ringnes beer on the deck of the old schooner, I noticed that many folks were doing just that on several of the beaches on the outside corner jutting out into the fjord. If Edvard was around today, I have little doubt that he’d be there, too, and most likely painting. Bygdøy is home to no less than 5 museums and our eyes widened stepping inside the Viking Ship Museum, a vast space containing three Viking ships so big it was hard to believe they were actually contained in one small building.

Later, back in the heart of town near the new Opera House, a magnet for tourists with its elevated wraparound roof that invites a walk (or skateboard) around the building, we grabbed the City Bikes for one last hurrah, a lengthy jaunt to the Sculpture Park. We’d heard the hype on this one but were clueless about it not even knowing it was the most popular tourist attraction in Norway. Riding through the Frogner neighborhood with its hilly streets and big stately homes reminiscent of San Francisco’s Pacific Heights, we reached the edge of an overgrown outdoor wonderland that looked perfect for a romantic stroll.  A statue of Sonja Henie, the Norwegian Olympic skater, on the perimeter close to the mammoth ornate entrance gates reminded us of Norway’s Hollywood connection. We were alone, however, in appreciating this cultural exchange … you know, that sense of Norway’s diversity in the arts, even the performing arts with a real MGM ice skating starlet one of its own.

The Vigeland Sculpture Arrangement inside what is Frogner Park covers a whopping 80 acres and contains a staggering 212 sculptures by Gustav Vigeland, the designer of the Nobel Peace Prize medal. A friend and contemporary of Munch’s, in truth I think they may have had more in common than they realized. Observing the magnitude of this artistic accomplishment was akin to discovering Munch’s extensive scope, with figures literally sculpted everywhere you looked. The finale of sorts is called The Monolith, with 36 figure groups telling a “Circle of Life” message around and on a gigantic totem pole. It’s really a site for sore eyes culturally, with so much to see you could spend an entire day here and still not have seen it all.

But after 4 days we had seen it all, well almost, in spite of the fact that the Munch Museum was temporarily closed. I missed my second Mona Lisa moment, seeing the other 2 major versions of The Scream but discovered other astounding works of his in Bergen at KODE, a collection of museums exhibiting not only works by Munch but also those of other major Norwegian artists, many of whom I’d never heard. Culturally, I had really branched out as least as far as Norway goes, traveling 200 miles to ponder the genius of an artist who forever fascinated me. What would Edvard think of my obsession?  I think he’d understand.

www.visitoslo.com

www.visitnorway.com