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Skjermbilde 2020-07-01 kl. 11.20.11.png

This is the 9th solo exhibition of the Norwegian Artist Christian Tony Norum at Edvard Munch`s Ekely.
28. June at 1400-2200. Jarlsborgveien 14 at skøyen (Hoff) Ekely. http://munchs-ekely.no/english/

For this event, the artist have on his own created, the opportunity to show works in the process of art making in between the startup (continuation) of the ever lasting oil painting series ( Alle tiders Kunst), with an exhibition between and in the middle of a working relation, where the start up 15. May - 31. July, where this exhibition for the 28. June makes the middle of development in this matter of subject.

In 1916 Edvard Munch (1863–1944) bought the estate Ekely, a former plant nursery at Skøyen on the outskirts of Oslo. Ekely became his permanent residence until his death in 1944, and here he finally had enough space for his work.

From the birth and in to life (metamorphoses) to the death of something someone, the honorable friend will be met by the power of love, as memory thinking back, thoughts meet, we meet again and again. Something you can not see or touch, meta reality, is not here anymore, but are present in clean air, or jumping into the ocean, not in physical, coming up of the water, but in memory or imagination for pictures in the brain, re create invisible images, stills in a animation of sequences put together to bring back, in to life the bodily memory, into oil paint on linen for u to see how it could happened, disagree the letters of communication vacation. Come see for your selves for a change.

Walter Benjamin in The shadows holding a inc box typing and writing, saying hello and dancing away. Roland Barthes limboing with a huge tie holding a mug with inscriptions etc.

Quid tempestates autumni et sidera dicam,
atque, ubi iam breviorque dies et mollior aestas,
quae vigilanda viris, vel cum ruit imbriferum ver,
spicea iam campis cum messis inhorruit et cum
frumenta in viridi stipula lactentia turgent?
saepe ego, cum flavis messorem induceret arvis
agricola et fragili iam stringeret hordea culmo,
omnia ventorum concurrere proelia vidi,
quae gravidam late segetem ab radicibus imis
sublimem expulsam eruerent; ita turbine nigro
ferret hiems culmumque levem stipulasque volantis.
saepe etiam inmensum caelo venit agmen aquarum
et foedam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris
collectae ex alto nubes; ruit arduus aether,
et pluvia ingenti sata laeta boumque labores
diluit; implentur fossae et cava flumina crescunt
cum sonitu fervetque fretis spirantibus aequor. Virgil — A Storm at Harvest Time
Georgics, book 1, lines 311–327

Need I describe what man must watch for
when the weather changes under autumn’s stars,
the days grow shorter, with a gentler heat;
or when spring downpours soak the bristling cornfields
as the milky grain is swelling on green stalks?

A farmer and his reaper reach his golden acres
and begin to strip the barley from its fragile stems.
Just then, the winds from every quarter join in battle,
tearing the laden harvest far and wide,
uprooting it and hurling it on high,
as if it were light chaff and flying stubble
scattered by a whirlwind to the darkening air.
I’ve often seen it. Often, too, I’ve seen
a mighty mass of waters gather in the sky;
inside the toppling clouds black showers form.
Heaven falls to earth; the deluge
drowns the smiling crops and wastes the oxen’s labour.
Ditches fill; deep rivers in their channels swell and roar;
the ocean chafes and boils in the estuaries.

Arachne lent her name to the technical term for the 8-legged web-weaving spider—after Minerva finished with her.
Arachne boasted of her skill in weaving saying it was better than Minerva's, which displeased the craftswoman goddess, Minerva (Athena, to the Greeks). Arachne and Minerva had a weaving contest to settle the issue in which Arachne showed her true mastery. She wove wondrous scenes of the infidelities of the gods. Athena, who depicted her victory over Neptune in their contest for Athens, turned her disrespectful competitor into a spider.

Even after Arachne met her fate, her friends misbehaved. Niobe, for one, boasted that she was the most happiest of all mothers. The fate she met is obvious. She lost all those who made her a mother: her children. Towards the end of the book comes the story of Procne and Philomela whose horrible revenge led to their metamorphoses into birds.

The will to do, the force so true, for the inner, bigger, smallest, depreciation towards people in the blue, love for, longing to, speak for, the silence of death to, the grave to come by, i say good bye.

Sorrow grief, the love fortunately seeking, the memorial, the bury of the body, parkings of the last voice, the last breath, the last go, the last so.

For humanity in nature in the universe, deaths of the generations, degeneration, corona times, economical, neo-geo-re- political struggles, racism, human struggle for survival, like all times, the strongest, the weakest, minority, poor, upper class power structures getting short.

Passing over to microbes, micro wars, the skeleton holding up a body of meat, cells, what difference does color on the skin tell the riddle of wrongs, the flesh and bones, the ancestor, next generation of kids learnings of the planetary believes, hopes, the path way from destruction, good values, moral, and unfair and indoctrinated digital era, continents borders and breaks. Poor the water on top, Utilization for plants to grove in soil from the head of things, words have no soul without a body, eyes, ears, brain, the infinite ever lasting memory, given further, the notions of everything, saying for, the big picture of poetry of life, it selves on shelves. Please be gentle playing the cords of the good potion of crystals, and equations of torment souls sentiments of layering bonds, hairs growing together like portals of times rapped into dimensions, and books growing through veins of blood circuits of circulatory with pumping, giving life and light, coming in through eyes, ear coming through capillaries re orienting maps of interesting times, giving served on a plate what a mate.

When Munch moved to Ekely, he was a renowned and wealthy artist. The good working conditions at Ekely are reflected in the large and colorful production from this time, inspired by the close surroundings. Munch painted the lush nature, seasonal alternations from summer to autumn and winter to spring, from plowing with horses to harvest, and how man and his surroundings characterize each other and are equal parts of a larger whole.

The self written journey of life experiences from real life with a hint of imaginary, situations the mapping unshelled, the noises of harmony combined in to diary of self dealing meditative taking in, fields of what not words can describe the other. Through and penetrating brain matter, beyond abstraction or explaining, i m telling you something, behind curtains of reality the veil is open, its not hidden, its every evidence of bodily vibrations and movements on top of each other, by a splintering brush, blush, touched by lightning struck, through wrought iron, and cast of fonts the hand on to the canvas, like someone, fling around, like a humble little person in the bigger hand king kong style.

True to the widow of art, sanity, oracle blues, darkest part of humanity radio, not the commercial type, tv stylistic, entropy, technocracy critical. Truth serum, exam every day, nothing but intuition and ups, down, middle, age, cave man with rocks on head, holding a branch from a tree, a historical periphery of love for art, the master and holy temple, hat taking off, respect and transcendent, bolding acts from old comedy tragedy plays, and death metal resurrection policy, don`t park cars on my grave please!

Best wishes

Yours faithful Ch. Norum



Short Bio and website

Norum has exhibited and performed at institutions and galleries like The Munch Museum in
Oslo, Kunstverein St.Pauli Hamburg, Kunstnerforbundet Oslo, Kunstverein GLStrand (Copenhagen), Manifesta
11.Zurich, UKS, young artist society (Oslo), Papay Gyro Nights Art Festival (Papay
Westray, Orkney Islands and Cattle Depot Artist Village, Hong Kong), Kunsthall
Oslo, The National Autumn Exhibition at Oslo S (Oslo), Munch’s Ekely (Oslo), Galleri K Oslo,
Kittelsens House/ 1857 gallery (Hvitsten/Oslo/Roma/Zurich), Oslo Kunstforening
(Oslo), House of Artists (Oslo), Berlin biennale, National gallery of Oslo, The
Nationalmuseum Of Contemporary Art (Oslo), NoPlace (Oslo), Malmö Konsthall
(Malmö), MACRO Museum/ curated by Kaleidoscope Magazine,Roma
Contemporary Arena.Macro Museum,Macro Testaccio,(Roma), MOMA PS1 (New
York), Tidens Krav (Oslo), 18th street Art Center (LA) and Gavu Cheb Museum
(Praha).

christiantonynorum.com

https://vimeo.com/351377282 BERUS DEG !

Man må alltid være beruset.
Alt dreier seg om dette:
det er det eneste problem.
For ikke å føle tidens fryktelige åk
som knuser dine skuldre
og presser deg til jorden,
må du uopphørlig beruse deg!

Men på hva?
På vin, på poesi eller dyd —
Hva du vil,
Men berus deg!

Og hvis du undertiden våkner opp
på palassets trappetrinn,
i grøftens grønne gress
eller i ditt kammers dystre ensomhet,
og hvis rusen alt er i ferd med å svinne
eller er forsvunnet,
spør du vinden, bølgen, stjernen,
fuglen eller tårnuret,
spør alt som iler, alt som klager,
alt som kretser,
alt som synger eller taler —
spør hvilken time det er.

Og vinden, bølgen, stjernen, fuglen og tårnuret
vil svare:
”Det er timen da du skal beruse deg.
Berus deg uoppphørlig
på det at du ikke blir
en av tidens pinte treller.
Berus deg på vin, poesi eller dyd
Hva du vil!”
Men berus deg !
C.B



 

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