Edvard Munch, Lifeblood, Munch Museum, Oslo
Munch’s life was, in many ways, shaped by illness and anxiety, so an exhibition of paintings, prints, and drawings focusing on that aspect of his life felt entirely apposite. A display case of surgical instruments also included an X-ray image of the artist’s left hand. I’m rarely a fan of using inserted props like that in exhibitions, but here it worked extraordinarily well, offering a vivid glimpse of what the medical world looked like in Munch’s days. Of all the works on display, The Sick Child (1885-1886) made the strongest impression. Several versions exist, and one in particular stands out: a work painted in thick layers of oil. The young, ill girl is surrounded by abstractions that call to mind Gustave Moreau’s early abstract paintings. The effect suggests that Munch was moved by his own work and left the picture scored with scratches, revealing the underlying layers of paint.
Hardy Hill, Towerkill, Simian, Copenhagen
I first encountered Hardy Hill’s work five years ago. At the Bizarro gallery, set in a small basement beneath a wine bar in central Copenhagen, were four prints of imaginary figures that appeared to be staging some kind of theatre. The cool, stringent lines left me with the feeling of having visited an autopsy room. In June, Hill’s work was presented in Copenhagen once again (still in a basement), this time at Simian in Ørestaden, the city’s new, neatly polished district that feels rather like the inside of an architect’s rendering. Here the works took on a new dimension: the prints’ measured and cool qualities were offset by a sense of domestic warmth added by lamps sourced via classified ads – and by having the space divided by temporary walls that mirrored the floor plan of Hill’s own home.
Norbergfestival, Mimerlaven, Norberg
Held in an area formerly used for iron mining, the festival was not only a place to dance far into the night to deep, rapid bass beats. It was also the place where I witnessed some of my favourite performances ever. First, Matilda Tjäder’s musical set, which transported me from the misty, smoke-filled mine tower and sent me on an inward journey through space. Then came 7038634357’s endless build-up, culminating in a tremendous release. Finally, I saw dance as I had never seen it before when Tiran Willemse performed his own choreographic work, Blackmilk. The music was almost devoid of rhythm while Willemse moved rapidly, like a pendulum of abstraction, in front of me as I sat sweating on the cold concrete floor. Having experienced these dance compositions undoubtedly shaped the exhibition I opened a few months later in Rome.
– Oliver Bak is an artist based in Copenhagen. His exhibition Swarmers is on display at Indipendenza in Rome until 17 January 2026.
For this year’s contributions to the Advent Calendar, see here.
