The vital protest art of Jeff Donaldson: 'He stood up for what he believed in'

August 2022 · 5 minute read

The first ever solo exhibition in New York for the civil rights-championing artist uncovers a career filled with important and sensitive works

He was 6ft 6in, loved jazz music and championed African American rights. Gone but not forgotten, the artist Jeff Donaldson is being honored with his first New York solo exhibition at the Kravets Wehby Gallery which opened on 23 February, over a decade after his death.

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The exhibition, which features 13 paintings, traces 35 years of the artist’s career, from the 1960s to his paintings in the late 1990s. His art was used to illustrate his fight for equal rights. “Ideologically, the work is fighting for the same crazy things there was to fight about 50 years ago,” said the curator, Marc Wehby. “These works are a relevant part of American history, black history, art history and they’re also beautiful.”

The psychedelic paintings are meticulous, detailed and create a plethora of patterns to create large haloes over women, majestic portraits of men and ocean waves in metallic paint, collage and paper foil. “They’re obsessively detailed, you’d never know a guy made these works,” said Wehby. “There’s a sensitivity to them that most men don’t have.”

Donaldson’s work stems from the Black Arts Movement, which was founded in New York City after Malcolm X was assassinated in 1965. Donaldson spearheaded a visual art style called AfriCobra, which stood for African Commune of Bad Relevant Artists, in 1968. The group had more than 100 artists and their core principles were to commit to social responsibility, help artists in their local communities and take pride in their black identity.

Wives of Shango, 1968. Photograph: Jeff Donaldson

The AfriCobra movement was meant to appeal to the senses, not to the intellect. Aesthetically, it’s called “superreal”, a term Donaldson defined as being fantastical. It was painted brightly with rhythmic lines and flat patterns that call to mind op art, but with figurative portraits in the style of vintage movie posters. Donaldson is well-known as one of the painters of Chicago’s Wall of Respect in 1967, which had a series of African American heroes in a public mural that was seen as a contribution to the community.

“This is a guy who had incredibly strong beliefs,” said Wehby. “He stood up for what he believed in, he was very anti-establishment and an active participant in the civil rights movement. He made art for the people who were protesting for equal rights.”

The exhibition features paintings such as Wives of Shango from 1968, which shows Shango, the god of thunder of Nigeria’s Yoruba people and his three wives (Oshun, Oba and Oya). The painting symbolized black empowerment for women, as lore has it the wives disagreed with Shango and taught him how to fight, making him stronger in battle.

“Visit Azania” from 1974 shows a .45 pistol pointed at a white South African official, ready to pull the trigger. It’s the image for the flyer of the exhibition, which can be seen as controversial and read several ways. “If an artwork doesn’t have an edge, if it doesn’t get under people’s skin, it’s forgotten,” said Wehby. “Good art has a voice, always. That’s what makes Donaldson’s work so relevant today.”

Donaldson always painted from home in LeDroit Park in Washington DC. “And when he painted, it was always while listening to jazz,” said his daughter, Jameela Donaldson, who recalls him turning the basement into his art studio. “I remember the time I walked in on him watching a Beyoncé video, he said he was merely admiring all the beautiful colors in her costume.”

In his academic tenure, Donaldson taught many influential black artists at Howard University in Washington, including Wosene Worke Kosrof. But he wasn’t a breeze to study with, as he had a rigorous work ethic. “His students would complain that on the first day of class, he would give them blank maps of Africa and tell them to fill out the countries,” said his daughter. “Of course, most of them couldn’t do it but by the end of the class, they could all fill out that map.”

J. D. McClain’s Day in Court, 1970. Photograph: Jeff Donaldson

Around campus, Donaldson trotted around wearing an ascot and his daughter remembers seeing him stride like an African king. “There were many sides to my dad, his artistic legacy, his scholastic legacy and his legacy of activism and education through art,” said Donaldson. “He taught me to rail against mediocrity and strive for excellence in everything I do. He had high expectations and always believed I should have the same.”

But he was also human, of course, and just a regular dad. He did crossword puzzles, designed T-shirts for family reunions and attended every one of his daughter’s soccer games. “Even now, I miss his terrible driving,” she said.

It seems that Donaldson’s legacy will soon see a renaissance, as he will be showing at the Detroit Institute of Arts Museum, the Charles H Wright Museum of African American History and he will have his first solo museum show at the Everson Museum of Art. “His work needs to be seen and talked about but it’s taken 50 years,” said Wehby.

Donaldson wrote some of his most important beliefs in the AfriCobra Manifesto in 1970, which spelled out his vivid vision. “It is our hope that intelligent definition of the past and perceptive identification in the present will project nation-full direction in the future – look for us there, because that’s where we’re at,” he wrote.

He ended the piece with: “We hope you can dig it, it’s about you, and like Marvin Gaye says, ‘You’re what’s happening in the world today, baby.’”

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