In a thought-provoking exhibition at Oslo’s Munch Museum, Edvard Munch’s Freia frieze is being showcased for the first time outside of the chocolate factory where it was originally installed. The twelve canvases, commissioned in 1922 for the women’s canteen at the Freia chocolate factory, offer a glimpse into the artist’s vision while simultaneously exposing the complexities of gender, labour rights, and the dark history of cocoa sourcing.
A Dance of Art and Industry
Upon entering the exhibition, visitors may initially feel as if they have stepped into a vibrant dance. The canvases depict scenes of synchronised movement: fruit pickers stretch their arms gracefully, couples stroll along a beach, and watering cans pour in perfect harmony. Munch’s use of vivid blues and greens adds to this sense of fluidity. However, beneath this aesthetic allure lies a critical examination of the socio-political landscape of the time and the realities faced by the women who laboured at Freia.
Curator Ana María Bresciani underscores the contradictions inherent in Munch’s work. While the artist sought to create uplifting public art for factory employees, the context of its creation raises questions about whether their needs and experiences were truly considered. “Those years when Munch was working on the Freia frieze were very dramatic and dark for the whole of Europe, especially after the First World War,” she explains. This exhibition not only highlights Munch’s artistic journey but also reflects on the broader narrative of workers’ rights and the quest for gender equality.
The Historical Context of Cocoa Sourcing
The significance of the Freia frieze extends beyond its artistic merit; it also serves as a critical lens through which to view the exploitative history of cocoa production. The exhibition delves into the origins of the cacao beans used by Freia, which were sourced from South America and the Caribbean, before shifting to Ghana, then a British colony. This troubling history of colonial exploitation and racism is intricately woven into the narrative of the factory and its workers.
This is the first time the frieze has been displayed in Norway outside its original setting, and only the second occasion it has left the factory since its debut in 1923. As the Freia factory undergoes renovations, the Munch Museum is providing a rare opportunity to reflect on both the artwork and the socio-economic realities of the women who were often referred to as the “chocolate girls.”
The Clash of Wealth and Poverty
The commissioning of the Freia frieze raises critical questions about wealth disparity and the value placed on art versus the livelihoods of workers. Munch was compensated 80,000 Norwegian kroner for the creation of the frieze—equivalent to approximately £192,000 today—while the women employed at the factory were subsisting on meagre wages. Arbeiderbladet, an Oslo daily, highlighted this disparity in a scathing report from 1923, questioning the ethics of investing heavily in art while the workers faced starvation.
Munch himself seemed detached from the realities of the women he aimed to uplift with his work. His comments about the “little chocolate girls” suggest a patronising view, asserting that they would gradually come to understand and appreciate his art. This notion raises further questions about the role of the artist in society and the responsibility to engage with the lived experiences of those depicted in their work.
The Legacy of Public Art
Despite the complexities surrounding the Freia frieze, it remains one of only two public works created by Munch, the other being a series for the Aula at the University of Oslo. Munch was captivated by the potential of public art to engage with the community, viewing it as a means of connection and recognition. Bresciani posits that Munch’s motivations were not solely altruistic; he was also driven by a desire for fame and the strategic advantages that public commissions could bring.
“His art was to be lived with among the people,” Bresciani notes, emphasising that Munch was acutely aware of the changing dynamics within Norway. However, the question remains whether his artistic legacy truly honours the experiences of the workers for whom he ostensibly created.
The exhibition, titled *Edvard Munch and the Chocolate Factory*, is on display at the Munch Museum until 11 October 2026, inviting audiences to engage with the myriad layers of meaning embedded within these striking canvases.
Why it Matters
The legacy of Edvard Munch’s Freia frieze serves as a poignant reminder of the intersection between art, labour, and social justice. By bringing this historical artwork into contemporary discourse, the exhibition challenges us to reflect on the ongoing struggles for workers’ rights and the importance of recognising the often-overlooked contributions of women in the workforce. It compels us to consider how art can be both a reflection of societal values and a catalyst for change, urging us to question who is truly represented in our cultural narratives.
