Lynette Yiadom-Boakye: Fly in League with the Night
Tate Modern, London SE1

LESS than a dozen years ago, Tate Britain had a glaring absence of work by artists of colour.

It’s a sign of some progress that they are now showing The Procession, a magisterial commission by Huw Locke, and Fly in League with the Night, the first exhibition to celebrate Lynette Yiadom-Boakye’s work, covering the period from 2003 to 2020.

It begins inauspiciously at the pre-entrance to the exhibition, with music so loud it’s impossible to concentrate on the detailed signage. This, we are told, is the artist’s playlist but it doesn’t seem to add anything much.

The exhibition opens with an early piece called First (2003), depicting a smirking man in a garish red dressing gown.

This amateurish work appears out of place in such a prestigious setting, although the title may be offering a clue: is the artist showing us a first, or early work, to detail her progression away from crudely depicted characters to ones of subtle strength?

An example of the latter is Six Birds in the Bush (2015), an enigmatic title for the portrait of a man in a feathered hat.

His skin and features are built of extremely dark paint, while retaining a glowing quality.

There is something about the hat and the man’s direct gaze that suggests Rembrandt’s self-portraits.

Another possible reference to an “old master” is a large canvas called The Counter (2010) depicting a young boy sitting on rocks, gazing out to sea.

It is reminiscent of Turner, not so much because of the subject matter but the way the paint is rendered. It is a beautifully thoughtful piece, a million miles away from First.

Another outstanding painting is Citrine by the Ounce (2014), a close-up portrait of a man looking down, modest, shy, meditative or simply unconcerned with being seen.

The “prettiness” of the lemon-yellow background belies the painting’s ability to challenge the right of the viewer to project anything onto another.

In the final room, The Stygian Silk (2020) is a full-length, seated portrait of a woman surrounded by dogs, painted in such luminous gloom it’s impossible to see the whole picture from one angle.

It points towards an intriguing departure for the artist, turning towards myth and mystery in the paintings she created during lockdown.

There are some canvases that seem less successful like Diplomacy 1 (2009), a group portrait that surely deserves the description bad.

The exhibition might also have been better at eight rather than 10 rooms, with more discipline shown in the curation. But there are many magnificent pieces of work gathered here.

It is a quiet joy to know that Yiadom-Boakye has created a whole world without whites, one where people of colour are given space and not subject to daily micro-aggressions, or worse.

This is a powerful statement in itself and one of many reasons to visit the exhibition, especially with young people, without reference to ethnicity.

Jenny Mitchell is an award-winning poet. Her third collection, Resurrection of a Black Man, is published by Indigo Dreams.
Until February 26 2023, www.tate.org.uk.