shelidonNovember 19, 2024Leave a Comment

Last weekend I was in Turin to catch some exhibitions and, in addition to the one on Giger I talked about yesterday, we also caught a really neat one on another of my favourite visionaries, William Blake, set in the former Royal residence and hunting lodge called Venaria Reale. The show is articulated into 6 themes and an immersive installation, and features works from both Blake and other contemporary artists, some well-known and some lesser-known, at least to me. Here’s how it goes.

1. Horror and Danger

In the face of big changes and upheavals of the Industrial Revolution, many artists tried to adapt to the profound transformations of the world around them. This led them to embrace the sublime – creating art that could stir up feelings of fear and awe, rather than just being conventionally beautiful. These themes opened new imaginative doors for Romantic artists, who no longer felt confined to tame or pleasant subjects; instead, they could depict unsettling, creepy scenes that resonated on a deep emotional level. In Blake’s work, for example, this is expressed through twisted bodies and tortured expressions – a vivid portrayal of angst and torment. For his contemporaries, themes of imprisonment, madness, horror, danger, and disease became all the rage, along with dramatic images of nature’s wild side. English artists were increasingly drawn to the raw power and threats posed by the natural world, manipulating light, proportions, and space to stir emotions in the viewer.

1.1. William Blake, The Night of Enitharmon’s Joy (around 1795)

Previously titled simply “Hecate”
Color print, ink, tempera, and watercolor on paper
Presented by W. Graham Robertson in 1939

Blake created his own unique mythology in his works, featuring his own original characters who pop up again and again, each representing different spiritual vibes. This particular piece might depict Enitharmon, whose “false religion” stirs up guilt and division (represented by the two figures lurking behind her). But Blake doesn’t stop there – he layers on deeper meanings, hinting at themes of witchcraft and melancholy.

1.2. Two floods and other Biblical Themes

The depiction of fear and Blake’s original approach through metaphysical subjects and original characters are better understood if compared to the approach adopted by some of his contemporaries, who tackle the subject through the depiction of Biblical scenes. One the most popular is the Flood, displayed here in two versions by two different artists.

Francis Danby, The Deluge (around 1840)
Oil on canvas
Tate Collection, acquired in 1953

The Flood – God’s big punishment for humanity’s wickedness via a giant flood – was all the rage as an art theme back then. For artists like Westall and Danby, it was a golden chance to dive into nature’s overwhelming power. They went all out with intense lighting effects, dramatic scaling, and vast open spaces to crank up the emotional drama of the scene. Danby in particular employs a rich colour palette dominated by dark blues and greys, contrasted with bright highlights that draw attention to the figures in peril and enhance the painting’s emotional impact.

William Westall, The Commencement of the Deluge

Oil on canvas, exhibited in 1848. Tate Collection, acquired in 1954

The painting features a dynamic arrangement of figures and landscapes, with Noah and his family depicted in the foreground as they witness the floodwaters rising. The use of diagonal lines in the composition enhances the sense of movement and urgency, drawing the viewer’s eye toward the tumultuous sky.

Another recurrent scene depicted by contemporaries is the destruction of the temple, which is presented here in a work by Samuel Colman from around 1830. Colman had a knack for painting apocalyptic scenes, and the biblical prophecy about the destruction of Jerusalem’s temple was just the thing for him. The ruined church and the falling cross might symbolize the Established Church, which Colman wasn’t exactly a fan of. On the flip side, true faith gets a glowing cameo as a mystical cross soaring above, radiating heavenly light and celestial vibes.

The picture doesn’t really do it justice, so here’s a detail.
The stark contrast between the black cross collapsing in the red background and the white cross soaring into heaven is simply awesome.

“In trembling and horror they beheld him They stood wide apart, driv’n by his hands And his feet which the nether abyss Stamp’d in fury and hot indignation But no light from the fires all was Dark.”
— William Blake, The Book of Los
London 1795

2. Fantastical Creatures

By the end of the 18th century, art was overflowing with supernatural, fantastical, surprising, and monstrous imagery. These bizarre creatures gave artists a chance to unleash their imaginations and satisfy the growing taste for the shocking and terrifying. In a world where Enlightenment ideals and progress were increasingly questioned, the irrational and the otherworldly started to feel way more appealing.

It’s said that Blake’s monsters appeared to him in visions. Meanwhile, other artists turned to apparitions, witches, and monsters from literature and folklore—including Shakespeare’s creations and figures from Greek tragedies. As satirical graphic art blossomed in those years, these fantastical or grotesque creatures gained new sharpness, boldly exposing the vices of contemporary society.

Early in his career, for instance, Nathaniel Dance painted trendy portraits and epic historical scenes. However, his witty side truly came alive through drawings and caricatures, especially after he gave up being a professional artist. The strange creature in this drawing showcases Dance’s playful and imaginative spirit: it’s titled A Dog-Headed Monster in a Cave, but all I see is a cartoon character ready for a new adventure.

Imaginative sea monsters often pop up in John Hamilton Mortimer’s works from the 1770s. In this case, the fish seem to be part human, part monster, and they’re busy stuffing themselves with rock-hard shells. The theme might be inspired by Italian writer Andrea Alciati, who compared the wild nature of the sea to human passions. If left unchecked, these passions, much like the sea, lead to self-destruction. Again, do you find them monstrous? ’cause I think they’re cute.

3. Enchantments?

Enchantments!

Even though many people thought of fairies and spirits as mere superstition or fanciful tales, these magical beings stayed alive and well in the art of the time. Artists like Blake and Henry Fuseli breathed new, vivid life into the world of fairies and spirits with works full of enchanting, feminine figures that appeared seductive and captivating, sparking the imaginations of their audiences.

Fairies of this era often intertwined with the mysterious, fantasy women of the time’s art and literature. They offered an alluring sense of forbidden pleasure to viewers—a mix of danger and desire. These magical beings weren’t just whimsical; they reflected contemporary anxieties about femininity and sexuality. They played with the idea that women’s independence and sensuality could be transformative, for better or worse, affecting not only the person involved but also those around them.

At their core, these fairies could be seen as symbols of untamed freedom—wild, unpredictable, and brimming with potential for creation or destruction, depending on how their influence played out. Whether for good or ill, these mystical figures served as a mirror to the fears and fascinations of society, casting a spell on anyone willing to take a closer look.

Theodor von Holst was a student of Fuseli and, like his teacher, he specialized in literary subjects with a particular flair for the macabre and supernatural. In the painting shown below, he seems to draw inspiration from the legend of Faust. The scene is teeming with grotesque creatures, spirits, and witches, with a striking fairy figure dancing prominently in the centre at the top.

Henry Singleton (October 19, 1766 – September 15, 1839) was an English painter and miniaturist known for his portraiture and historical compositions. Born in London into an artistic family, Singleton was raised by his uncle after his father’s death when he was very young. He began his artistic career at the age of sixteen and attended the Royal Academy Schools. His early works included large biblical compositions, but he later gained recognition for his portraits, which were in high demand throughout his life. In this painting, however, Singleton takes inspiration from Shakespeare’s The Tempest and captures the magical essence of Ariel’s final song:

“On the bat’s back I do fly, after summer merrily.”

4. Romanticing the Past

The past was a treasure trove of inspiration for Blake and the other artists of his time. Amid the struggles and tensions of the long wars with France, images and stories from Britain’s history offered a source of national pride, a way to escape, and a means to convey modern messages. Celtic and Nordic languages, folklore, art, and architecture gained a fresh allure. The figure of the ancient bard, for instance, became a powerful symbol of resistance and defiance for these artists. Shakespeare had a revival during this period, and his works helped the British reimagine a heroic and inspiring past. The English countryside, with its ruins and old churches, took on new layers of meaning.

Some artists, including Blake, even adopted historical artistic techniques and styles in their efforts to reconnect with the spirit of past eras.

Samuel Palmer was a prominent painter, etcher, and writer, born on January 27, 1805, in London and passing away on May 24, 1881, in Redhill, Surrey. He is celebrated as a key figure in the British Romantic movement, particularly known for his visionary landscapes that often reflect a deep spiritual connection to nature. Palmer was the son of a bookseller and showed artistic talent from a young age, exhibiting his works at the Royal Academy by the age of fourteen. His early influences included the works of J.M.W. Turner and later the mystical ideas of William Blake, whom he met through artist John Linnell in 1824. This encounter significantly shaped his artistic direction, leading him to explore themes of spirituality and nature in his work.
In 1826, Palmer moved to Shoreham in Kent, where he produced some of his most significant works. His paintings from this period are characterized by their ethereal quality and often depict pastoral scenes infused with a sense of the mystical: notable works include The Valley Thick with Corn and Repose of the Holy Family, which showcase his unique blend of realism and vision.

Palmer’s style evolved over time; while his earlier works were rich in sepia tones and dreamlike qualities, later pieces reflected a more conventional approach as he sought to appeal to public tastes for financial stability. His shift towards watercolors allowed him to explore brighter palettes and more detailed landscapes. He was also a writer who contributed to discussions on art and aesthetics, associated with a group of artists known as “the Ancients” who were inspired by Blake’s teachings. Despite facing criticism during his lifetime, Palmer’s work gained recognition posthumously and has been influential in the study of Romantic art.

5. The Gothic

Blake’s first real encounter with Gothic art came when he was a young apprentice engraver sketching tombs in Westminster Abbey. Over time, the Gothic style became a central part of his artistic vision, representing a spiritual and vibrant art form—a timeless ideal. But Blake wasn’t alone in thinking this way. The Middle Ages sparked the romantic imaginations of artists and writers like no other era before it.

This fascination took many forms: from detailed studies of Gothic churches to exploring the evocative qualities of ancient ruins and castles, and even adopting more linear and precise artistic styles. What’s more, Gothic could be interpreted in countless ways: for some, it symbolized national tradition; for others, it was a reminder of an oppressive old order. Yet for others still, it expressed political and imaginative freedom—the possibility of change.

6. Satan and the Underworld

Artists looked to the past just as much as they imagined the future. The catastrophes and traumas of the 1790s and 1800s—revolutions, wars, brutal violence, and dreams of liberty—seemed to mark the dawn of a new era. Exactly what this new era would be was anyone’s guess, stirring both the terror of unimaginable horrors and the hope for transformation and redemption.

It no longer seemed far-fetched to believe that biblical prophecies about the end of the world were actually coming true. Artists channeled this looming sense of apocalypse into their work, reflecting their own anxieties about the times. Blake—who spent his final years depicting the torments of hellish, Dante-inspired infernos—didn’t stop at satanic and infernal themes. For him, destiny and revelation became something truly sensational.

This is one of Blake’s great color prints, which he described as having “historical and poetic” subjects. Here, a heroic Satan rises from the ground. He doesn’t show any of the signs of depravity or savagery you might expect. Instead, his evil is distilled into the form of a serpent, coiled tightly around Eve’s body as she lies prostrate on the ground, completely inert after she had consumed the forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge.

Blake often depicted also scenes from the biblical Book of Job. In this case, he shows Satan inflicting plagues on the devoted Job. However, Satan is portrayed as a monumental presence: his body is idealized and athletic, his wings stretched wide, dominating the space. As an embodiment of a rebellious spirit, Satan’s figure might also reflect echoes of Blake’s own radical opinions.

In Blake’s personal mythology, Los represents creativity and inspiration. Here, he’s shown crouched in a “gloomy sadness,” mimicking the posture of the chained skeleton next to him. Blake originally included this image in his First Book of Urizen (1794), but later printed it as a standalone work. Blake’s fiery and terrifying depiction is wide open to interpretation.

The First Book of Urizen is one of William Blake’s major prophetic works, a foundational text within Blake’s unique mythology, exploring themes of creation, alienation, and the nature of reason. The book is characterized by its intricate illustrations and poetic language, presenting a narrative that serves as a parody of the biblical Book of Genesis. The book introduces Urizen, a character who embodies rationality and represents oppressive structures in society. Urizen is depicted as a “primeval priest” who becomes separated from the other Eternals to establish his own realm, which is defined by rigid laws and religious dogma. This separation leads to the creation of a world that is alienating and enslaving, reflecting Blake’s critique of organized religion and the constraints it imposes on human experience.

The narrative unfolds in a mythic format, detailing the struggles within the divine mind to define itself and the universe. It begins with a description of a void before creation, emphasizing themes of isolation and existential dread:

“Earth was not: nor globes of attraction
The will of the Immortal expanded
Or contracted his all flexible senses.”
(Chapter II, stanza 1)

Urizen’s journey involves creating laws that govern existence but ultimately lead to his downfall. He attempts to establish order through commands that reflect his desire for control but finds himself trapped by his own creations:

“Laws of peace, of love, of unity;
Of pity, compassion, forgiveness.”
(Chapter II, stanza 8)

The structure of The First Book of Urizen consists of several chapters filled with poetic verses accompanied by Blake’s distinctive engravings. The work features a dual-column format, reminiscent of biblical texts, which enhances its thematic depth as it rewrites traditional religious narratives. The illustrations are integral to understanding the text, as they visually represent the complex ideas Blake explores.
Blake employs rich symbolism throughout the book. For instance, Urizen’s four sons—Thiriel, Utha, Grodna, and Fuzon—represent the classical elements: Air, Water, Earth, and Fire. This familial structure underscores the interconnectedness of creation while simultaneously illustrating Urizen’s fragmented nature.

The First Book of Urizen is part of Blake’s broader project to challenge conventional religious beliefs and explore alternative spiritualities. Alongside The Book of Los and The Book of Ahania, it forms an unorthodox rewriting of scriptural texts that reflects Blake’s radical vision during a time of political upheaval in England. Blake’s work has had a lasting impact on literature and art, influencing various movements that seek to explore the relationship between humanity and the divine. His portrayal of Urizen as a figure representing oppressive reason continues to resonate in contemporary discussions about authority and individual freedom.

Next to Blake’s own mythology, Dante was another source of inspiration for hellish scenes and penitent figures.

In the seventh circle of Dante’s Inferno, for instance, Dante and his guide Virgil enter the forest of the suicides. The trees are the trapped souls of those who took their own lives (which was then considered a sin) and Blake jumps at the chance to represent twisted branches and, amongst them, monstrous Harpies feeding on them.

Blake wasn’t the only artist drawn to the Underworld. Dante’s poem was a big hit with artists, who loved diving into its strange, grotesque, and terrifying imagery to let their imaginations run wild.

Theodor Richard Edward von Holst (3 September 1810 – 14 February 1844) was a British painter renowned for his literary themes and connections to the Romantic movement. Born in London to a family of Livonian descent, he displayed artistic talent early on, which was recognized by notable artists such as Henry Fuseli and Sir Thomas Lawrence. Lawrence even purchased some of von Holst’s drawings when he was just ten years old, paving the way for his admission to the Royal Academy Schools in 1824.

Von Holst is best known for illustrating literary works, particularly those of European authors like Dante, Shakespeare, and Mary Shelley. He notably became the first artist to illustrate Shelley’s Frankenstein in its 1831 edition. His works often drew inspiration from German Romantic literature, including the writings of Goethe and E.T.A. Hoffmann, leading him to be regarded as a significant figure in the illustration of German Romantic themes in England.
Despite his considerable talent and imagination, von Holst’s choice of subjects—often dark, supernatural, and melancholic—did not align with contemporary public tastes, resulting in a degree of neglect during his lifetime. He produced around 49 paintings exhibited in major London exhibitions and received praise for his exceptional draughtsmanship and colour sense.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti and other members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood admired von Holst’s work, considering him a bridge between earlier Romantic artists like Fuseli and Blake and the newer generation of Pre-Raphaelites. His paintings often featured dramatic and mythological themes, with titles that reflected their melodramatic nature.

This fantastical image takes its name from Charon, the ferryman who transports condemned souls to Hell. When Holst exhibited this painting in 1837, he included verses from Dante’s Divine Comedy:

“Woe to you, wicked spirits! I hope you never see the sky again…”

Von Holst married Amelia Thomasina Symmes Villard in 1841 but died at the relatively young age of 33 from liver disease. After his death, his works were sold at auction, but he remains an important figure for his contributions to literary painting and illustration during the Romantic period. His grand-nephew was composer Gustav Holst, further linking the family to artistic legacy.

John Martin (19 July 1789 – 17 February 1854) was another influential English painter, engraver, and illustrator known for his dramatic and grandiose depictions of biblical and mythological themes. He played a significant role in the Romantic movement, particularly through his large-scale paintings that captured sublime landscapes and intense emotional scenes.
Born in Haydon Bridge, Northumberland, Martin came from a humble background as the son of a farm labourer. He was one of the few surviving children in a large family, which instilled a sense of resilience in him. At the age of 14, he began an apprenticeship as a heraldic painter, which laid the groundwork for his artistic career. By 15, he was studying under an Italian artist, Boniface Musso, and later worked in various artistic capacities, including painting china and glass.

Martin moved to London in 1806, where he initially struggled to gain recognition. His first significant exhibition at the Royal Academy occurred in 1811 with the oil painting A Landscape Composition, which marked the beginning of his rise to fame. He became well-known for his large biblical paintings that often featured vast landscapes populated by tiny human figures, emphasizing humanity’s insignificance against the backdrop of nature.

Some of his notable works include Belshazzar’s Feast (1821), The Fall of Nineveh (1828), Sadak in Search of the Waters of Oblivion (1823) and The Seventh Plague of Egypt (1823), but my absolute favourite is his Pandemonium. I was very pleased to see another version in this exhibition. The painting depicts a scene from John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Pandemonium is Satan’s palace in Hell, surrounded by lakes of fire and vast, fiery plains. The dramatic setting and apocalyptic imagery owe much to the work of John Martin. Known as the “Mad Martin,” his grand and spectacular visions were hugely popular and influential.

In addition to painting, Martin was also involved in engineering projects related to urban infrastructure, including proposals for London’s sewer system. His visionary ideas anticipated later developments in civil engineering.

Despite his popularity among the general public—Thomas Lawrence even referred to him as “the most popular painter of his day”—Martin faced criticism from prominent art critics like John Ruskin, who dismissed his work as lacking true artistic merit. His dramatic style led to him being nicknamed “Mad Martin,” partly due to confusion with his brother Jonathan, who suffered from mental illness and infamously set fire to York Minster.

Martin continued to paint until late in his life, producing a trilogy of significant works depicting scenes from the Book of Revelation: The Last Judgement, The Great Day of His Wrath, and The Plains of Heaven. These works are considered some of his finest contributions to art.

The exhibition closed with a multimedia installation bringing some or Blake’s paintings to life. Though it might seem a sterile exercise, I rather liked it. It gave a good idea of the movement and dynamism Blake wished to express through his characters.