Friday, 21 November 2025

'I see the Four-fold man, Humanity in deadly sleep'; Ben Edge and the Children of Albion, Fitzrovia Chapel


I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep
And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.
I see the Past, Present and Future existing all at once
Before me. O Divine Spirit, sustain me on thy wings,
That I may awake Albion from his long and cold repose

William Blake – Visions of the Daughters of Albion

The last time that I went to the Fitzrovia Chapel it was still called the Middlesex Hospital Chapel and it was surrounded on all sides by a busy London NHS hospital. The hospital closed in 2005 and was demolished in 2008, apart from the chapel, which stood, exposed to its foundations (and held up by timber props) in an empty wasteland until the new Pearson Square/Fitzroy Place was built around it. Walking into Pearson Square from Riding House Street was a little disorientating and although the brick-built chapel was right there in front of me, all my eyes could take in were the concrete and glass of the new buildings. I walked right around the chapel before I finally registered its presence, completely out of place in its new, corporate square, surroundings. The chapel isn’t much to look at from outside, built in the tight central courtyard of the old hospital there was never enough space to get much of a vantage point on it. All the time and effort seem to have gone into the interior; internally it is visually stunning, a glittering jewellery box of gold leaf, gilt, polychrome marble and mosaics. Designed by John Loughborough Pearson in 1911 in what was then the increasingly outmoded Gothic Revival style, the Byzantine inspired chapel seems an appropriate place to stage an exhibition of Ben Edge’s folk art inspired paintings and sculpture; a quaint hundred-year-old survivor looking over its shoulder to dimly understood traditions, marooned in a post-modern desert of concrete and glass. 

Where Must We Go In Search Of Our Better Selves

Ben Edge was born in Croydon in 1985 and spent his childhood shuttling between his separated parents, his mum in semi-rural, genteel Southborough near Tunbridge Wells and his father in fashionable urban Shoreditch. He studied Fine Art at West Kent College and the Sir John Cass School of Art in Aldgate (now a part of London Metropolitan University and hastily renamed the School of Art, Architecture and Design following the death of George Floyd and the resulting stigma attaching to institutions named after individuals with connections to the slave trade). Edge originally pursued a career in music but over the last few years has gained a reputation as an artist following his reconnection with Folk traditions in 2017. His immersion in the world of folk ceremonies has produced an arresting series of figurative paintings which explore British folk traditions and their connection with the modern world. He believes that we are in the middle of a ‘folk renaissance’ “reflecting a rising desire to reclaim ancestral roots and reconnect with nature”. In his new book ‘Folklore Rising’ he explains that “as we struggle as a nation with the darker elements of our history, I have found folklore to be a breath of fresh air and something of an antidote to the legacy of our colonial past… its greatest appeal to me is that folk customs often arose from the ways in which peasants used their ritual practices, superstitions, storytelling and creativity to take back control of their lives and destinies from the oppressive regimes of the ruling classes.” 

The Pearly Lwyd of Albion

The centrepiece of Edge’s exhibition at the Fitzrovia is his new painting ‘The Children of Albion’, displayed in the chancel of the chapel, in front of the altar. The Guardian recently described it as an ‘epic quasi-altarpiece that… explores the richness of Britain’s history in fabulous detail. Fusing the grotesque topsy-turviness of Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights with the surreal humour of Terry Gilliam, it’s the culmination of a body of work that began after the double crises of Brexit and the pandemic.’ It is a gloriously detailed piece of work, impossible to take in at a glance. Edge would have been gratified to see his audience gently jostling for a place directly in front of the painting and by the amount of time they then spend examining each group of figures. The visual references are legion; Blake’s personification of Albion looms over the whole composition which is full of folkloric details from Edge’s other works, as well as nods to medieval illuminated manuscripts, Bosch, Brueghal and Hogarth. Amongst what seem like hundreds of figures we spot Cro-Magnon man hunting a woolly mammoth, Joseph Grimaldi with glass and decanter, a strolling Olaudah Equiano, Mary Seacole, the head of Margaret Thatcher with mouth wide open like the gaping jaws of Hell waiting to admit striking miners, ships carrying waves of invaders, Guy Fawkes and a naked King blowing a trumpet with his arse.   

The Children of Albion

The other paintings in the exhibition are illustrated and described in ‘Folklore Rising; An Artists Journey through the British Ritual Year’, Edge’s account of the various rituals, rites and ceremonies he has attended and from which the inspiration for his paintings is derived. His pictures generally show the location of a ritual or details of a ceremony, often with figures from past and present co-existing on the same canvas. There is a striking image of the Dorset Ooser, a wooden head that featured in the folk culture of Melbury Osmond in Dorset, which unfortunately went missing in 1897. Edge likes to use the rosy light of dawn or dusk, to illuminate his subjects which helps to create a deeply mysterious atmosphere. If you can’t catch the exhibition, which is only on for another couple of weeks, buy his book and lose yourself in the place where past, present and future exist all at once.    


Ben Edge

Earth Mother

The Devils Den

The Rollright Stones

John Barley Corn must die

'Folklore Rising' Watkins £25.00



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