Edvard Munch, "The Scream" (1895), lithograph in black on heavy white wove paper, 13 3/4 x 9 3/4 (Catherine Woodard and Nelson Blitz Jr. © 2013 The Munch Museum/The Munch-Ellingsen Group/Artists Rights Society, New York); Andy Warhol, "The Scream (After Munch)" (1984), screenprint on Lenox Museum Board, 40 x 32 (The Andy Warhol Museum, Pittsburgh, Founding Collection, Contribution of The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. © 2013 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. / Artists Rights Society Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York 1998.1.2548 (ARS), New York)

Edvard Munch, “The Scream” (1895), lithograph in black on heavy white wove paper, 13 3/4 x 9 3/4 (Catherine Woodard and Nelson Blitz Jr., © 2013 The Munch Museum / The Munch-Ellingsen Group / Artists Rights Society, New York); Andy Warhol, “The Scream (After Munch)” (1984), screen print on Lenox Museum Board, 40 x 32 (The Andy Warhol Museum, Pittsburgh, Founding Collection, Contribution of The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc., © 2013 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. / Artists Rights Society, New York) (images courtesy Scandinavia House)

Edvard Munch, tortured and brooding; Andy Warhol, detached and impenetrably cool. The two artists might not have gotten along well as studio mates, but as for aficionados of artistic repetition, they have a definite kinship.

Edvard Munch, "Madonna" (1895/1897-1898), lithograph in black on green card (Epstein Family collection © 2013 The Munch Museum / The Munch-Ellingsen Group / Artists Rights Society, New York)

Edvard Munch, “Madonna” (1895/1897–98), lithograph in black on green card (Epstein Family collection, © 2013 The Munch Museum / The Munch-Ellingsen Group / Artists Rights Society, New York) (courtesy Scandinavia House)

Munch/Warhol and the Multiple Image, an exhibition that just closed at the Scandinavia House, looked at these two artists in their shared use of prints and the repeated image, particularly a 1984 series that Warhol did based on four of his Norwegian predecessor’s subjects. Using “The Scream,” “Madonna,” “The Brooch, Eva Mudocci,” and “Self-Portrait,” Warhol transformed the heavily-lined, dark lithographs of Munch into screen prints drenched in vivid hues. A catalogue by Patricia G. Berman and Pari Stave that accompanied the exhibition presents the whole story, so even though the meeting of the originals and the copies may be over, the surprising link between the two artists can still be explored.

Collection of Henriette Dedichen, Oslo; © 2013 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Andy Warhol, “Madonna and Self-Portrait with Skeleton’s Arm (After Munch)” (1984), screen print on Lenox Museum Board, 32 1/8 x 40 (Collection of Henriette Dedichen, Oslo, © 2013 The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York) (courtesy Scandinavia House)

The Warhol prints were all commissioned by the New York–based Galleri Bellman following a Munch exhibition. Of course, appropriation was nothing out of the ordinary for Warhol; that was basically his whole art ethos. He even did duplicative work after Leonardo da Vinci and Botticelli.

But Munch is different. As Berman writes in her extensive catalogue essay, “If Warhol offered himself up as surface, Munch was all impenetrable depth.” Yet there is the comparison that they both “lived behind a public mask” — Warhol as the persona as untouchably metallic as his Silver Factory, Munch as “a mediated version of the private self,” who, it could be argued, levied his haunted soul in much the same way Warhol did his gilded one.

Munch/Warhol

Two of Warhol’s “The Scream (After Munch)” in the catalogue for “Munch/Warhol” (photograph by the author)

As Berman rightly points out, “the resulting prints and paintings have impact precisely because the works of both artists are so well known.” We know Munch’s “The Scream” and Warhol’s Soup Cans not just because they tapped into and have been tapped by consumerism — the former a museum store staple in everything from an inflatable version to finger puppets; the latter a play on American mass-produced icons — but also because the artists themselves appreciated replication as a self-promotional tool. Warhol’s endless screen prints are familiar, and it turns out Munch also used lithographs to drive the visibility of his art and, well, to sell more.

Both artists used the alterations of color to create different moods in each edition, and the repeating prints show how firmly both grasped the power of the image. Warhol commented on this a little when he placed Munch’s self-portrait alongside his “Madonna,” both subject and artist consumed into the clone. Despite Warhol’s cool and Munch’s heavy control of his own persona, there seems to be a lot of anxiety about the meaning of their own art, or the scraping away of meaning as works pass from their original vision into a commodity made by their own hands.

Munch/Warhol

Cover page for “Munch/Warhol” (photograph by the author)

The exhibition and catalogue are the only two New York happenings for the big Munch 150, celebrating 150 years since the artist was born in 1863. Warhol himself had a birthday celebration this week, complete with a gravesite livestream. Obviously, the images they built through repetition and personas are cemented in the public’s memory, and it’s worth examining this meeting between the two, the clash of their art turning a single study of self-duplication.

Munch/Warhol and the Multiple Image was at the Scandinavia House (58 Park Avenue, Midtown, Manhattan) from April 27 to July 27. The catalogue is available online from Artbook and through the shop at Scandinavia House (212/847-9737).

Allison C. Meier is a former staff writer for Hyperallergic. Originally from Oklahoma, she has been covering visual culture and overlooked history for print and online media since 2006. She moonlights...