The Last Supper

Emil Nolde made this unsettling, expressionist Last Supper with oil on canvas, but when, exactly, seems almost beside the point. The churning, feverish colour and crude, urgent marks don't seem concerned with accuracy or perspective. The point isn’t to get it right, but to feel it right. Up close, the paint is laid on thick, almost violently, like he’s wrestling with the scene. Look at the way he models the hands reaching for the plate, the strokes are almost sculptural. I’m reminded of Ensor, who also dealt with religious subject matter, but there is something rawer here. And the colours! Greens and yellows for faces that should be flesh-toned, jarring reds and blues that create an atmosphere of unease. The whole thing feels claustrophobic. Nolde seems to suggest that even in the most sacred moments, there's always a shadow lurking, a sense of impending doom. It’s a feeling he comes back to again and again.