It started with two pieces: one picture of 1978’s “The Wiz” and another 1959’s “Imitation of Life.” Though the material was bare-bones, it sent Es-pranza Humphrey, associate curator for Poster House, down a rabbit hole of the history of Black entertainment in the U.S., as far back as when formerly enslaved people were allowed to have paying jobs on stage.
Her research became “Act Black: Posters from Black American Stage and Screen,” curated by Humphrey, which closes on Sept. 6. The exhibition features more than 130 pieces — including posters and ephemera — from the 1870s through the 1970s, telling a story of Black entertainment as labor, art, history, and social justice in the post-antebellum era. The posters depict all-Black casts.
The topic was not too foreign to her. During her undergraduate and graduate studies, Humphrey focused her research on Black stage performers, particularly the Black chorus girl. Think Florence Mills, Lena Horne, or Josephine Baker.
The narrative started at the stage and eventually beyond — into cinema. “Then I realized the stage and the screen were in conversation with each other,” said Humphrey.
The exhibition opens with the poem “A Note on Commercial Theatre,” by Langston Hughes, along with various iterations of “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” posters and wood blocks used to print various play posters.
Though “Act Black” flows like a timeline, it’s an incomplete timeline. Much of the history represented in the exhibition was difficult to find. Many of the posters were lost to history, as were many of the films they advertised.
“I knew there was going to be very little,” said Humphrey about sourcing posters.
One reason for the scarcity is the temporary nature of many stage performances. Performances, particularly on stage, were often held at temporary tent shows. Posters could go up just a couple of hours before a performance, only to be wheat-pasted over as soon as the day ended.
Black audiences faced limitations in cinemas, too. They could sometimes only see films featuring all-Black casts during “midnight rambles,” when cinemas opened their doors to primarily Black audiences for about an hour a day, usually during off-peak business hours such as midnight, to show all-Black films.
Humphrey purchased most of the pieces in the exhibition, while others were loaned. Among the rare pieces acquired for the show is a six-foot-tall George Walker and Bert Williams piece, which is made up of three huge sheets pasted together.
Walker and Williams played with roles and expectations of white performers who had performed in Blackface before them. Williams was a lighter-skinned Black performer who used Blackface, while Walker, who was darker-skinned, lightened his complexion.
Blackface, Humphrey explained, was used for many reasons, not just by racist white performers during the era of the Black minstrel caricature, but also by Black people. Looking at these performances through a modern lens can make them appear simply racist and outdated, she said, but Black performers had many reasons for using Blackface, including economic ones.
“The job market is not looking very bright for [formerly enslaved Black people]. Like, maybe they just realized, ‘okay, I do have to perform, but in blackface. But I get shelter, I get a steady income, I get protection because the production is owned and managed by a white person.’” said Humphrey.
In many ways, “Act Black” is one of the few traceable ways that depict the story of Black labor in the entertainment industry through graphic design, art, and illustration. And, eventually, how they slowly gained opportunities to depict themselves and tell their own stories on their own terms, even as Black directors, producers, and writers were largely absent, particularly during the earlier years.
“So once Black people are able to be dominant in the industry, like an all-Black cast and all-colored review, they are everything that you see on stage,” said Humphrey. “They — and by ‘they’ I mean mostly Black audiences — start to realize, ‘wow, I speak like that. I look like that,’” she continued.
That shift became especially important with the advent of cinema, when Black performers could move beyond more comedic roles and into representations of love and romance. In mixed casts, such portrayals were at best taboo and at worst illegal.
“They really couldn’t have a love story because that would humanize them a little too much,” said Humphrey.
For Humphrey, the history documented in “Act Black” provides a foundation for understanding Black representation in entertainment today. There would be no Spike Lee, Jordan Peele, Shonda Rhimes, Lorraine Hansberry, or Ryan Coogler without this history, however piecemeal it may be.
Poster House is hosting a panel in connection with the exhibition. Cultural historian Eric Lott, jazz historian Jerome Jennings, curator Dominique Jean-Louis, and Humphrey will join in a conversation about the use of Blackface in “The Legacy of Blackface: Understanding Performance, Posters, and Public Memory” on Sept. 27.
“I think everyone should see [Act Black] because this is an undertold story about Black resilience, about Black ownership, about Black agency on the stage and on the screen. And a lot of this stuff is lost in the media,” said Humphrey.
“The Legacy of Blackface: Understanding Performance, Posters, and Public Memory” speaker panel takes place on Sept. 27 from 6:30 p.m. to 8 p.m. at Poster House at 119 West 23rd St., New York, NY. RSVP at posterhouse.org.
