Page 12 - James Ward - A Lioness with a Heron

FOREWORD

ictures of lions or tigers often call to mind the words of William Blake (1757-1827). If people

P know any of Blake’s poems, it is this one, so I won’t quote it here. Nonetheless, clichéd as it
might be, when I first saw Lioness with a Heron, bits of ‘The Tyger’ ran through my head.
When the Gallery acquired this painting, I had never heard of James Ward, but after doing
only preliminary research into his work and career, I could easily understand his importance as an
animal painter. Ward was intrepid, imaginative, stubborn, and prolific: he was, without exaggeration,
the greatest animal painter working in Regency England, and an important influence on Delacroix and
Géricault.

What occurred to me only after I had finished writing the catalogue was how similar Ward’s life and
character were to that of Blake, arguably Britain’s most iconic eccentric artist-genius. Both artists were
Londoners and the sons of tradesmen, both left school as children and were never formally educated,
but were heavily influenced by the Bible. Both men started as engravers, something that they later
believed to have been detrimental to their recognition as artists. They were both headstrong and often
unreasonable, and as students and Academicians they rebelled against Academy rules and opinions.
Both artists loathed hypocrisy, cruelty to animals, slavery, and the idea of an Academy-dictated ideal
of beauty in art. Both men were fascinated by the paranormal. Ward even occasionally wrote poetry,
although nothing that can be compared to Blake’s work.

In ‘The Tyger’ Blake’s amazement at the animal’s mystery and complexity, at the alien power of its
musculature, heart and brain, makes him ask who or what gave the tiger its fire: God? Man? Prometheus?
Blake’s poem compels us to examine different, almost opposing, ideas about the natural world and its
creator, and asks: how do we see animals? What fascinates us about them and why?

10