By James A. Goins
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When asked to speak about what it means to be a Black artist, I find myself at a crossroads. Not because I reject the acknowledgment of my background or the histories that precede me, but because I resist the idea that my work—or any artist’s work—should be viewed primarily through the lens of race.
Art is not a product of skin color, nationality, or category. It is the expression of a human being’s experience, shaped by the environments, influences, and emotions that inform their life. When we reduce an artist’s work to the race they belong to, no matter how well-intended, we inadvertently confine it. We frame it within a narrative that, instead of expanding its reach, limits its resonance to only those who share that identity. But art is meant for all. It speaks beyond the boundaries we construct, reaching into the shared human condition.
A current musical I am working on deals with Joseph Bologne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges, who is often referred to as the "Black Mozart," a moniker that, while intended as a tribute, diminishes his individual genius. His name is Joseph Bologne. He was not a "Black Mozart" any more than Mozart was a "White Bologne." He was a composer, virtuoso, fencer, and conductor of unmatched skill—a human being whose work stands on its own merit, not as a racial footnote in history. [...and this during the 18th century!]
That said, there is an undeniable reality that artists from certain backgrounds, including my own, have faced systemic barriers, been overlooked, and had their contributions diminished or erased. That is a fact, not a perspective. And that is why we must ensure that the stories of those who came before us—those who created despite the limitations imposed upon them—are told. Not to perpetuate division, but to restore a complete and accurate narrative of artistic and cultural history.
Black History Month is important, not because it segments history into a single month, but because it serves as a necessary correction to the omissions of the past. The racial history of every culture on earth encapsulates more than a month but it’s an honor to have it recognized even still. That said, the theatre and entertainment industry, like all creative fields, must continue the work of broadening its scope—not to tokenize artists, but to recognize the fullness of their contributions as part of a collective human legacy.
For me, resilience and determination are not solely the traits of a Black artist; they are the traits of any artist. To create is to push forward despite rejection. To tell stories, compose music or create artwork that matters is to fight against erasure. But the ultimate goal is not to be seen as a "Black artist" creating "Black work." The goal is to be recognized as an artist—one who tells stories that resonate because they are true, because they are human, and because they belong to all of us.
There are some of my ilk who would argue we must “rage against the machine.” Whatever they deem the “machine” to be. But in the end, it still creates a division. I want my work to be based on merit and the quality it brings to those human beings who see or hear it and are transformed by it. And if it doesn’t speak to you then it was not meant for you, not because it was created by a black artist, but because it was an artist’s work who happened to be black…or white…or green…or red. You get the picture.
Short Examples of Black Artists, Composers, and Writers Who Shaped the Last 100 Years:
Duke Ellington (1899–1974) – A jazz legend whose compositions redefined American music, blending classical influences with the improvisational brilliance of jazz.
James Baldwin (1924–1987) – A literary giant whose essays, novels, and plays tackled themes of identity, race, and humanity with unparalleled depth.
Nina Simone (1933–2003) – A musician and activist whose voice and compositions captured the spirit of struggle, resilience, and beauty.
August Wilson (1945–2005) – A playwright whose works, such as "Fences" and "The Piano Lesson," gave voice to the African American experience in the 20th century.
Toni Morrison (1931–2019) – A Nobel Prize-winning author whose novels, including "Beloved" and "Song of Solomon," explored the depths of human existence.
Jean-Michel Basquiat (1960–1988) – A visual artist who challenged the boundaries of fine art and street art, blending symbolism, history, and personal narrative.
Kara Walker (b. 1969) – A contemporary artist known for her striking silhouettes and explorations of race, gender, and power.
Terence Blanchard (b. 1962) – A composer and jazz trumpeter whose film scores and operas continue to push artistic boundaries.
While these figures have significantly shaped the creative landscape, their work transcends race. They are not just "Black artists," but artists—visionaries whose contributions belong to all of us. The ultimate goal is to see beyond race and embrace the humanity of humankind’s experience as a whole.
Perhaps, one day, we will reach a time when we no longer categorize each other by color, but instead, refer to one another simply as brothers and sisters.
Peace.
I've often thought about this. We enjoy so much of our fellow humans work and yet we still create categories for them in our minds when speaking about the music or art or play like it's an important distinction. I totally agree James. If the work is good and it resonates with me I don't care what color you are. Great post for Black history month bro!