Apprentice and Master looks at William Blake's formation as an artist, taking us from his apprenticeship as an engraver under John Basire, through to his maturity in the 1790s, and finally to Blake's later years when he came to inspire and guide a younger generation of artists who called themselves ‘The Ancients'.

Despite going into the exhibition relatively new to Blake's work, I was incredibly surprised at just how skilful he was as an apprentice of the age of 14. The first gallery showcases his precision in exploring anatomical perfection (both corporeal and that of artistic structure), and is informative of the explorative and subversive approach to printing Blake was to take later in life. Further evidence of his grounding in meticulous composition is a collection of early etchings, notably those taken at Westminster Abbey; in particular, rough and finished versions of the opened casket of Edward I serve to remind us how highly regarded Blake's proficiency as an engraver was, given he had been appointed to etch a royal tomb while being relatively young. Moreover though, they are a precursor to the contents of the main gallery.

Focusing on Blake's technical innovation and the brilliance it yielded, the central gallery is overwhelming. Through both its volume and content, it becomes immediately apparent how remarkable this collection is. At its heart is a reconstruction of his Lambeth studio, which is complimented by the selection of work displayed. The exhibits of Blake's method of publishing poetry and prophecies he invented himself, illuminated printing, took most of my time in this section; Songs of Innocence and of Experience and Heaven and Hell are visually stunning, and equally remarkable is their revolutionary content which pairs naturally with their original construction. Blake's technical innovation seems to be rooted in blunt obstinacy and a refusal to compromise; ultimately his willingness to reverse the conventions of the printing process speak to his need to find the empirical structural perfection of artistic production. The creation of a colour printing process was the result of painstaking, patient labour, and this exhibit takes us through its progressive stages to ultimate reward. Nebuchadnezzar alone is worth paying the entry fee for, believe me.

The final gallery in Apprentice and Master is something of a transition; while it allows us to remain in awe of Blake's work in its own right, it also invites the visitor to consider his relationship with younger artists Samuel Palmer, George Richmond and Edward Calvert, the self-termed collective 'The Ancients'. On account of the inspiration they bore, this room juxtaposes Blake's last great engravings The Illustrations to the Book of Job and Dante's Divine Comedy, and above all his small woodcut illustrations to Virgil's Pastorals, against the early works of The Ancients. The Pastorals and Divine Comedy are pure imagination, of particular significance beyond their immediate beauty for the encouragement they offered to Blake's disciples to work not from nature but from their inner eye, what Blake termed the 'divine imagination'. Richmond's The Creation of Light is a treasure as evidence of this legacy; of all the paintings by The Ancients, this is the most indebted to Blake in composition and technique, the unapologetically interpretive outlining of the sun's rays gravitating the focus of the viewer towards the corner of the frame.

As President of the Blake Society, Phillip Pullman spoke briefly at the opening of the exhibition. While it would seem to do him an injustice by quoting him selectively, his closing remarks are more persuasive to prospective visitors than anything I could write. With this in mind I will let him finish this review for me, in the hope that you will make your way to the Ashmolean at the earliest opportunity: 'William Blake was a complete original: his power, his tenderness, his wit, his graphic line are like no one else's, and it's good to remind people every so often about his colossal imagination and his moral vision, which are just as potent now after two hundred years as they were when he brought them into the world... The more we see, the more we marvel at the richness, beauty and truth.'