Self-Portrait Between the Clock and the Bed (1940-43)Few artists have ever seen their own old age with such terrifying clarity as Munch. Compared with this illusionless recognition of imminent mortality, the late works of Rembrandt seem self-congratulatory. Time is ticking away in the shape of a solemn grandfather clock. A single bed, covered with a stylish modern pattern of diagonal lines, testifies to his solitude. The artist himself seems frozen, flattened, already seeing himself as a stiffened corpse. He was to die, soon after painting this austere farewell, in 1944
Photograph: Ove Kvavik/Edvard Munch

Weeping Nude (1913-14)The long hair that covers this woman’s face echoes similarly copious tangled locks in Munch’s visionary paintings of the 1890s such as Madonna and Ashes, revealing that he is still pursuing inner obsessions and indulging personal symbols of desire. Yet in this painting he projects his psychology on to reality, portraying a model from life, depicting a real moment of simple sorrow. It is a great nude painting that is at once sensual and tragic, voyeuristic and compassionate. Munch feels this woman’s pain even as he gets absorbed in her anguished beauty
Photograph: 2017 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York./Munch Museum

Sick Mood at Sunset, Despair (1892)The same wooden railing, the same sweeping perspective and even a very similar blood red smear of sky over the stain-like blot of the fjord – this painting visibly anticipates The Scream, which Munch was to picture for the first time in 1893. Here we see the suffering of humanity from the outside, not the inside. The difference between the two images reveals how radically Munch broke with the romantic tradition when he replaced this sympathetic figure of introspection with a symbolist howling ghoul
Photograph: 2017 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York./Munch Museum

The Artist and his Model (1919-21)Something has changed. Munch no longer wants to paint other people. He is particularly no longer drawn to desire. A model, by which is surely meant here a female model, implies an age-old game or drama between artist and muse. Munch however, balding and with his eyes screwed up myopically, has bitterly replaced such daydreams with the absurd joke of a ‘model’ that is just a scarecrow in a dressing gown. The wild bohemian days are gone. The artist is alone
Photograph: 2017 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York./Munch Museum

Starry Night (1922-24)By the time Munch painted this he was no longer simply trying to create stark symbols of psychic states as he did in his paintings of the 1890s and 1900s. Nature now moved him in itself, not just as a correlative of his inner mood. You can really feel the cold Scandinavian night, can imagine walking those starlit fields towards the glow of a town. Munch is brooding as much as ever, feeling his isolation as he stood out there in the chill, far from those friendly lights
Photograph: Ove Kvavik/Edvard Munch

The Dance of Life (1925)Some people fall in love and their love is reciprocated. Others get caught up in sinister, scary, cruel relationships like the woman who’s dancing with a green-faced phantom. Some remain alone, like the woman in white, while others are widowed, like the woman in black. This painting expresses Munch’s view of life as a dance of desire and fate in front of an eerie pale moon reflected in the dead-still sea on a Scandinavian summer’s night. It was so important to him as a statement of his pessimistic philosophy that he painted it twice, first in 1900, again in 1925
Photograph: Ove Kvavik/Edvard Munch

The Night Wanderer (1923-24)Munch exposes his own weakness and loneliness in this self-portrait stripped of all pomposity or self-regard. We see him not as artist here but simply an ageing, uneasy, isolated man walking around his house at night, peering at us with mystified unease. His hollow-eyed look makes him a walking embodiment of the empty blue night behind him, a man who the dark has got inside. Munch had painted nightmares in his youth in visions of terrifying symbolism like The Scream, yet the calm directness and observation of this later work is just as scary, if not scarier
Photograph: Ove Kvavik/Edvard Munch