A man sits center frame, drowned within an interior sea of red hues, arms spread as he pensively gazes against our direction into the distance of the frame. A woman laughs cross-legged on a stool, mouth wide open as if paused mid-speech or laughter, as a grinning fox resting on the checkered floor between her legs mimics her expression. Nearby, two young girls explore a white-stricken landscape as they inquisitively play with what is left of the scattered land which surrounds them.

Mystic Edifice (2020)

The unique allure of Ghanaian-British artist Lynette Yiadom-Boakye’s paintings rests in her enigmatic ability to mold past, present, and future; creating timeless landscapes that explore the relationships between living organisms, including humans, and their physical environments. Such elements are not usually deemed extraordinary, but since—like Yiadom-Boakye herself—all of her subjects are black, it feels radical. Smiling, smoking, lounging on beaches, and dancing; these autonomous subjects compel you to look, allowing black figures to become the protagonists of their own stories at last.

“Fly in League with The Night” seamlessly transitions itself from large-scale to mid-size works, from singular portraits to group images. Some works are paired to operate in dialogue with an other, such as Wrist Action (2010) and Bound Over to Keep the Faith (2012) where two androgynous figures are presented side-by-side, mysteriously grinning in the direction of the viewer. One rests their head upon their fist, whilst the other flashes a peach glove as if teasing us with what we are able and unable to identify. Straddling the line of what it means to be hyper-visible, seen, and simultaneously unseen; their gesture only amplifies their expression. Walking away from the exhibition, your mind remains marked by the tiny details of the faces you have just seen, with each figure slipping and merging into the other, much like I imagine Yiadom-Boakye intended.

To Improvise a Mountain (2018)

Yiadom-Boakye executes a masterful approach to painting. Every brush stroke appears thick and distinct, yet complimentary of every shaded hue which appears. It is as if one can hear moments from each mark. In every brushstroke there is a laugh, a giggle, or a sigh, and with each of the endless black and maroon marks, or little burst of carnival yellow or rose pink, there is a moment of life. Black skin tones are rendered before us to echo the sentiment that no matter where they are placed, these characters will always find the light, whether it be through an expression, a gaze, or a gesture. Yes, these subjects are black, but Yiadom-Boakye redirects our thought and forces the viewer to question: why does such a thing actually matter?

Condor the Mole (2011)

Fly in League of The Night brings together over 80 works crafted over a 17-year period. A timely and provocative mid-career retrospective, these works will haunt you far and beyond your initial viewing. Perhaps there are some studies featured which have lesser impact against the monotonous default white walls of Tate Britain. However, this is nowhere near distracting enough to fault the show. Yiadom-Boakye truly does fly away with her imagination, forging a realm far beyond what we are taught the Western Canon of painted portraiture should look like, and allowing black figures to exist in a timeless space where they are able to simply be at rest and at play, with room to finally take a breath.