There is a saying that the artist’s best work can only come from their suffering. Edvard Munch, perpetually embittered by tragedy – poor health, his mother and sister’s death to Tuberculosis and acerbic criticism for his mature break from the Impressionistic styles – translated visions into controversial masterpieces. He is now posthumously honored by a new collection housed in The Art Institute of Chicago until April 26.

The museum carefully takes the approach of Munch, victim of mental illnesses, often comparing renowned but humdrum artists (cough van Gogh) of the Impressionistic and Neo Impressionistic era with Munch’s brilliant impression on the same motifs, as a supplement to masterpieces.

Upon entering the first of 14 galleries, the Munch exhibitioner is greeted by a melodramatic self-portrait of Munch clad in black mourning bourgeoisie attire and a lit cigarette toted between his left index and middle finger. In a society of first impressions, a clean cut Munch alone would have left a venerable impression, but Munch’s reputation doesn’t fail to disappoint with a characteristic, dark undertone hinted by the lighting of his face and left hand while essentially masking the rest of his body behind darkness. Welcome to, “Becoming Edvard Munch” – dark, dreary yet delectable.

The exhibition of Munch’s ambitious vision focused on turbulent and sexual symbolism, “Unfortunate Life,” serenely hangs on white multi-million dollar walls adjacent to complimentary fiberglass tags describing respective paintings. Here, you may forget that Munch was plagued with anxiety and depression with many of his greatest works stemmed from such, as the presentation of these pieces like the, “Madonna,” untouchable and scrutinized from a distance, is immortalized. To complete this morose yet prim ambiance, it fleetingly invokes an urge to nail Munch’s bust onto these walls.

The warm earthen tones, blacks and virgin whites in drawn out brush strokes transfer the artist’s emotion onto canvas, intending to elicit overwhelming emotion rather than visual satisfaction.

“Madonna,” is dimly portrayed with black clashing with an ominous yellowed white, filling in the nude but skeletal facade of a sexually posed female – she leans back, eternally frozen and peaked in a state of sexual ecstasy, eliciting responses by men from afar, until those that are lured get a closer view of an impure and unattractive female enveloped by a frame of undulating sperm cells. Munch soils the sacred Madonna motif, combining his promiscuous edit with the traditional depiction of a white hued virgin.

With Munch’s life published on these walls, his works are once again public for potential critique. How would you like to have a medium of your memory about a deceased sister be barraged by disparagement? If I had one piece of advice for attending this exhibition, do as the children do. Be na?ve and take this Munch exhibition objectively or simply accept his genius and compliment him all the way through. I think he’d like that.

*”Becoming Edvard Munch” is open until April 26th at the Art Institute of Chicago. Tickets are required and may be purchased online at artinstituteofchicago.org or at the location.*