Exhibition Review: William Blake at Tate Britain

Albion Rose, William Blake c. 1793

Courtesy of the Huntington Art Collection

Deya Boyadzhieva reviews the William Blake exhibition, showing at Tate Britain until February 2020.

William Blake (1757-1827) was not a beloved artist during his own time. In fact, the only review of his solo exhibition in 1809 reads, “a farrago of nonsense, unintelligibleness, and egregious vanity, the wild effusions of a distempered brain.” As is often the case with prodigal artists, Blake was recognised as one of the seminal figures of British art only posthumously. The exhibition at Tate Britain provides for a wholesome look at Blake’s lifetime of artwork, while also delivering the artist in his own time, as a misunderstood artisan whose work was largely undervalued. It covers over 300 pieces of commercial engravings, original prints, paintings and his “illuminated books”, arranged predominantly in chronological order. With a commitment to deliver the artist in contemporary context, this is an exhibition of historical illumination rather than specific construe.  

The exhibition opens with the print Albion Rose (c. 1794). With his arms joyfully outstretched, Albion, patron of Britain in Blake’s mythology, welcomes visitors into the visionary world of the artist. Set in a time of great political unrest, at the start of the Industrial Revolution, Blake creates images that reflect both the social conditions and his personal beliefs. Albion is a utopian vision of Britain’s political awakening, of youthful rebellion, spiritual freedom and creativity, which, for Blake, are pillars of happiness.  It is appropriate for the exhibition to open with this work as his wife and artistic companion, Catherine, had said, “I have very little of Mr. Blake’s company; he is always in Paradise.” 

Tiriel, William Blake c. 1789

Source: Wikimedia Commons

The first room exhibits early products of Blake’s pictorial endeavour. An array of anatomical studies and drawings of historical figures outline Blake’s early style under the influence of the Royal Academy of Art, where he studied for a year. Early works also include illustrations to his epic poem Tiriel (c. 1789) and a glass case containing the manuscript. The exhibition is rich in such cases, most notably showing his famous illuminated books. There’s a display of A Memorable Fancy (c. 1790), which describes in poetic terms his own invented verbal-visual technique of relief etching or illuminated print. The combination of word and image highlights Blake’s basal principle that his visions can only be fulfilled by combining visual and verbal mediums. All those beautifully relief-etched works create what can only be described as a Blakeian, one-of-a-kind experience that is incomparable to reading his poetry or looking at his illustrations on the internet. 

Two of the rooms are dedicated to his successful professional life as an engraver copying other artists’ works, which stands in contrast to his original, and at the time highly disregarded, artistic enterprise. This part of the exhibition describes in an overwhelming amount of detail Blake’s business partners, patrons and finances. While context is important, by the time I got to the final rooms of the exhibition, I’d not only seen a lot, but also read too much. His intense and challenging works don’t need to be dulled by accounts of his financial condition. More importantly, Blake’s inspirations and artists of his time (to put him in artistic context) are hardly even mentioned – there’s barely a nod to contemporaries such as Henry Fuseli and James Barry. 

Jerusalem, William Blake, 1804-20

Source: Wikimedia Commons

A room is dedicated to the partial reconstruction of Blake’s largely unsuccessful exhibition in 1809 and to his most turbulent years in general. On one of the walls an empty frame marks what was his largest painting in the 1809 exhibition, The Ancient Britons, that has since been lost. In an attempt to commemorate and reimagine Blake’s unfulfilled ambitions to work on a larger scale, there is a massive digital installation of enhanced details of two of his paintings, which in my opinion all but pays respect to the artist’s hopes. 

The last part of the exhibition contains the products of Blake’s final 10-year creative outburst, his peak as a Romantic visionary. This includes an excellent display of his unfinished watercolour illustrations to Dante’s Divine Comedy. The side-by-side arrangement of the illustrations provides for a wholesome experience of Blake’s adept tonal subtlety in depictions of Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. The single colour copy of his longest and, in his own words, most masterful illuminated book, Jerusalem (1804-20), is also on display in the room, and one can marvel in all 100 plates that mark 16 years of beloved labour.

The Ancient of Days, William Blake, 1794

The Whitworth, The University of Manchester

The exhibition closes with The Ancient of Days, the frontispiece of Europe, a Prophecy (1794). It shows Urizen who represents conventional reason and law in Blake’s mythology. This works as a playful and successful opposition to the opening of the exhibition with the rebellious Albion. Together they frame the defining dichotomy of William Blake as an artist. He had unconventional vision within a conservative world. The exhibition is unique in its biographic detail, in its wholesome reunion of Blake’s works usually dispersed in multiple collections, and in its portrayal of Blake in his own time. Even though not all aspects of it were to my liking, I thoroughly enjoyed immersing myself in this reimagining of the world of the British visionary.

The William Blake exhibition is on at Tate Britain until 2nd February 2020.