Friedrich Nietzsche (1906) by Edvard Munch.
It’s hard to resist the temptation of making that particular connection. The famous Scream with this Nietzsche portrait.
The familiar red-yellow sky, the blue curves of the mountain, the perspective of the bridge. A mirror image, but with far more introverted and muted colours and shapes.
Besides, the Nietzsche here isn’t exactly busy covering his ears, eyes terrified, mouth gaped.
But isn’t there maybe an echo of a scream, floating down from the other side of the bridge? A scream with the same anxiety, fear, desperation and pain, which Munch shared intimately with the man.
»I was walking down the road with two friends when the sun set; suddenly, the sky turned as red as blood. I stopped and leaned against the fence, feeling unspeakably tired. Tongues of fire and blood stretched over the bluish black fjord. My friends went on walking, while I lagged behind, shivering with fear. Then I heard the enormous infinite scream of nature.« (Munch)
»Es war aber ein langer vielfältiger seltsamer Schrei, und Zarathustra unterschied deutlich, dass er sich aus vielen Stimmen zusammensetze: mochte er schon, aus der Ferne gehört, gleich dem Schrei aus einem einzigen Munde klingen.« (Nietzsche, from the book for all and none)