Content Warning: this post contains images and videos of individuals performing in blackface makeup, including racist comedy that may be disturbing to some viewers.
Blackface re-appears frequently in the 21st century, reminding us of patronizing and pervasive racism. Celebrities and politicians annually get a “slap on the wrist” (or get nominated for an Oscar) for appearing in blackface despite a century of opposition to the reductive and marginalizing practice. ‘Blackface’ typically refers to the act of a white person covering their face in unnaturally dark makeup to portray a caricature of a black person. Yet, putting on a full face of burnt cork makeup is only the most overt of a vast array of racist practices born in the American pop-culture sensation of minstrelsy. Like institutionalized injustices, the legacy of blackface minstrelsy has deeply permeated American culture, the perception of black Americans, and the way Americans interact with their history.
To get a sense of the scope of this practice, let’s consider the following footage of a famous American “darling”, Judy Garland, appearing at the age of 14 in a major feature film, Everybody Sing. Here she depicts a “pickaninny” character, which was a popular minstrel trope and a derogatory term for black children.
In this clip, we hear Garland singing “Swing Low Sweet Chariot“, (0:00) which is a genuine Negro Spiritual dating back to 1860. Popular spirituals like this one were frequently co-opted in minstrel shows, which serves the dual purpose of codifying the stereotype and otherness of the character while appropriating a unique repertoire of black popular music that is equally recognizable more than a century after its inception. Another unique element of this clip is the way “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” is then fragmented and combined with popular minstrel references to “Dixie” and the pride of the south (0:38). At 2:48, after her song is finished, Judy Garland says that her twin sister died, but her ‘mammy didn’t mind because she’s got 12 others.’ This is a type of comedy that relies on the premise that black people are poor, simple, and ignorant – perhaps even unfeeling. This point is furthered by the shuffling dance moves Garland employs and the unrefined look of her mismatched dress and stockings. The white musicians involved with this film take ownership of a spiritual that was symbolically connected to emancipation and in doing so are appropriating black art in order to radically change its narrative. This example of minstrelsy reduces a potent, unifying art of resistance to a racist farce that revels in the submissiveness of black stereotypes.
Al Jolson was the highest paid entertainer in the United States during his lifetime and heralded as “The World’s Greatest Entertainer”. He performed extensively in blackface. The video clip below shows his appearance in the film Rhapsody in Blue, a fictional account of the story of George Gershwin, an icon of American music. “Swanee” (below) was the first big hit of Gershwin’s musical career. Given this footage that undeniably illustrates Gershwin’s participation in minstrel culture, perhaps we should seriously reconsider the ethics of heralding his works – especially Porgy and Bess, which equally relies on the dehumanization of black folks.
See any similarities to the clip of Judy Garland?
These videos of minstrel performances from the mid-twentieth century show a consistency of style, of “lore”, and context that establish minstrelsy as an immediately recognizable genre with national mass appeal. These performances weren’t outliers – minstrelsy was the most popular form of entertainment in America for decades. In the era of Reconstruction after the Civil War, during which blackface minstrelsy thrived on white fears, the art form was akin to propaganda.
The blackface minstrel image was emblematic of all “low” culture. In contrast with fairly puritanical Victorian social norms, the black stereotype was sensual, giddy, over-indulgent, and unthinking. And that wasn’t just for clown-like, benign fun. A central figure in the legacy of minstrelsy, Thomas “Daddy” Rice, who was most famous for his character “Jim Crow” said:
“[the British] were under the impression that negroes were naturally equal to the whites, and their degraded condition was consequent entirely upon our ‘institutions’; but I effectually proved that negroes are essentially an inferior species of the human family, and they ought to remain slaves”.

Although Rice’s most popular song “Jump Jim Crow” went out of fashion, songs by his contemporary, Stephen Foster, are often still hummed today. Foster signed a contract with the group “Christy’s Minstrels” and published a songbook of hit minstrel songs like “Oh! Susanna”, “Camptown Races”, “Old Folks at Home”, “Old Black Joe”, and “My Old Kentucky Home” in the 1850’s.
By the time Foster’s songs were popularized in America, black folks started participating in minstrel shows. This was one of the few ways that recently freed black folks could earn wages. Although some critics have said that this was a way that black Americans were complicit in their dehumanization, we should also consider that the minstrel stereotype was appropriated from a documented practice of freed men and slaves alike putting on shows for favors, like this rendering of black men dancing at the Catherine Market for eels.

Minstrelsy relegated the black American to a stereotyped primitivism. Despite the unimaginable costs of disenfranchisement, this created a thriving subculture from which sprouted the artistic and intellectual abundance of the Harlem Renaissance. Minstrelsy became a mask that could protect black folks. Adhering to the slavery-era rules and stereotypes of black characters, black individuals could tap a vast market of white people waiting to see them act, dance, and make music. While this was grossly dehumanizing, W.E.B. DuBois contends that black minstrels were able to celebrate and promote themselves and their culture while reclaiming the genre that belittled them.
Furthermore, in his essay titled “Minstrelsy and Early Jazz”, Ostendorf writes that “without the social corset of minstrelsy certain traditions of black oral tradition which we value today for their intrinsic beauty would not have survived the restrictive cultural climate of 19th Century America.” That is to say that multiple scholars argue that black participation in and association with minstrel tropes was necessary and advanced the power and agency of black Americans.

Ostendorf also mentions an account from W.C. Handy, the “father of the Blues”, that it “was dangerous for him when he toured the South to appear out of his minstrel role. He tried not to walk alone, not to wear his regular middle class clothes publicly or outside his tent. Whenever his band entered or left a Southern town, they would go in full formation as a band, strike up ‘Dixie’ and be safe from persecution.”
In contrast, a quote from Wynton Marsalis about his song “From the Plantation to the Penitentiary” in “Wynton Throws Down the Gauntlet”: “Like you was Tomin’ and Jessin’ in a minstrel show, now you callin’ yourself a n****r for some money, calling your woman a bitch, shufflin’. You got the gold grill and you’re just Uncle Tomin’, basically. And the culture loves it because they’re used to that. From Stepin’ Fetchit to Flavor Flav. It’s the same. From Zip Coon to the guy from the ghetto who’s going to threaten you. It’s like safari seekers: “Wow, that was a real lion we saw on safari.’ You know, it’s like, ‘Let’s go in the ghetto and see what the natives are doing.'”
In this discussion, Marsalis confronts some of the essential tropes of the minstrel stereotype: primitivism, hedonism, and exoticism. These ideas continue to thrive in some of the roles designed for POC in the entertainment industry. However, these essential conflicts exist symbiotically with the success, affluence, and social influence of POC in that field. Unfortunately, the parallelism doesn’t end at the black caricatures Marsalis discusses; we should also consider that black men are disproportionately persecuted by law enforcement, hate crimes, and gun violence. Handy’s strategy of leaning into a minstrel role would not be viable in a culture that has cultivated a distorted, threatening image of black masculinity.
Stereotypes of black folks are pervasive and profitable in pop culture. They’re even pervasive outside of American music.
In this video by the K-Pop girl group, “Bubble Sisters”, all four members of the group dress in blackface and a strange anachronistic arrangement of costumes. Notably, the actors in the video wear a wide variety of wigs including braids, afros, and even hair curlers, invoking a “mammy” trope. The music quotes elements of R&B and soul in the contour of the melody and in the instrumental accompaniment to such an extent that it’d be hard to miss the references even without the visual cues that place this song within the genre. Furthermore, the inclusion of a tap dancing sequence in the music and video signals a disheartening familiarity with the minstrel genre. While tap dancing was certainly no longer hip in the ’70’s and ’80’s, which is the general era this song aims to evoke, it was a popular element in minstrel performances between 1910 and 1950.
With so much of popular culture flowing from and through the practice of blackface minstrelsy, we must concede that minstrelsy permeates the artistic and political heritage of our nation. The history of minstrelsy is a history of marginalization that is woefully overlooked despite its centuries of cultural influence.
