“Looney Coons” – The Problem With Minstrelsy-Aged Piano Repertoire

When we think of the term “looney”, many of us envision the literal definition – silly, strange, or funny. Others align the word with the beloved cartoon series, “Looney Tunes”, a film series of charming cartoon characters (Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, etc) that originally ran from 1930-1969 during the “Golden Age” of American animation. However, in the context of late 19th-early 20th-century minstrel shows and entertainment, “looney” was used frequently to describe the personalities of African-Americans, as portrayed by black-face minstrel performers. What made African Americans “looney” in black-face minstrelsy? This question invites a deeper discussion into how the term was used to reinforce harmful stereotypes through exaggerated performances, ultimately shaping societal perceptions and contributing to a legacy of racism in American culture.

After scouring the Sheet Music Consortium database, I came across a solo piano repertoire piece that raised my eyebrow entitled “Looney Coons”. The piece, published in 1900, is a short solo piano repertoire work composed by John T. Hall. Hall, born John T. Newcomer in 1875, Hall experienced success relatively early with his waltz “The Wedding Of The Winds”, which is still his most famous work today. Later in life, Hall was involved in a scam using the business name Knickerbocker Harmony Studios, where he falsely advertised prizes for song contests, while only offering the submitters help in publishing their songs — for a fee. For this, Hall was convicted and sentenced to two years in the federal penitentiary in Atlanta.

Cover page of “Looney Coons: Cake Walk & Two Step”, a solo piano work composed by John T. Hall in 1900.

Hall didn’t compose many works, but “Looney Coons” is one that did not age well after the black-face minstrel period was surpassed. While the composition itself seems tame, the title page cover showcases off-putting imagery of four black-face minstrel figures happily galivanting, dressed in affluent garb that was commonly worn by upper-middle-class white audiences. The title, “Looney Coons”, is sprawled across the cover in garish, yet eye-catching font, with the supplemental text reading “Cake Walk & Two Step”. The cakewalk was a dance form that became popularized before the United States Civil War originally performed by slaves on plantations. Lakshmi Ghandi states on NPR, “Plantation owners served as judges for these contests — and the slave owners might not have fully caught on that their slaves might just have been mocking them during these highly elaborate dances”. While “Looney Coons” may reflect a specific historical context, the imagery and title evoke deeply troubling emotions, revealing how entertainment can perpetuate harmful narratives, especially in minstrel shows. 

Sheet music (pg. 1 of 6) in “Looney Coons: Cake Walk & Two-Step” (Hall, 1900).

Upon reviewing “Looney Coons”, my observations draw me back to the conversations we had in class about black-face minstrelsy. Through this performance practice, African Americans were painted in a harmful, stereotypical light that perceived them as lazy, unintelligent, and, namely, looney. Hall’s decision to publish black-face minstrel imagery for a piano work entitled “Looney Coons” not only perpetuates a legacy of racism in American culture but also reinforces the idealogy of African Americans being lesser. “Looney Coons” reflects the troubling legacy of minstrel shows, urging us to confront harmful racial stereotypes in music. 

 

WORKS CITED

  1. Duke University. “The African American Experience: The Cakewalk.” Duke University Libraries, Duke University, https://repository.duke.edu/dc/hasm/b0850.
  2. Smith, Treye. “The Extraordinary Story of Why a Cakewalk Wasn’t Always Easy.” NPR, 23 Dec. 2013, https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2013/12/23/256566647/the-extraordinary-story-of-why-a-cakewalk-wasnt-always-easy.

African Wit & Humor – A White Politicians Commentary on Negros

Imagine reading the Sunday morning paper. Hot off the presses, and just delivered to your door in an affluent neighborhood in Huntsville, Alabama – the year is 1882. You skip over the daily news and weather reports to get to your favorite section – the editorials. You skim over the gossip and advertisements, but suddenly, a title catches your eye: “African Wit and Humor. Congressman Cox on the Fun in a Negro’s Character”. 

Newspaper entitled “AFRICAN WIT AND HUMOR. Congressman Cox on the fun in a Negro’s Character. (Huntsville Gazette, 1882).

This newspaper article was published in the Huntsville Gazette on March 11th, 1882. The title is eye-catching because it makes a profound claim on the characteristics of black people during the height of the slave trade and the American Civil War in the late 19th century. Reading further into the article, it became apparent that the man giving commentary on the personalities of black people was a white congressman named Samuel S. Cox. Cox was a representative for both the states of Ohio and New York during his tenure in the U.S. House of Representatives. Cox traveled between jobs in the law and political spheres until he ultimately was elected to Congress from 1857-1865, and 1869-1889 (retiring 7 years after this article was published).

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Drawing of Samuel Sullivan Cox, date unknown.

The gist of the magazine article is that it recounts the night when Congressman Cox presented a lecture at the Lincoln Center in New York City on the personality trait of humor in African people. It goes on to give multiple examples, which were received with [Laughter] at the ends of each joke: 

“The African is like the kaleidoscope changing. He has his extremes of joy and sorrow, sin and pertinence. The elements of his character have puzzled the best analytical tests. The varying and brightly scintillating–flashes of his lighter nature are well-balanced to do this. “Bill,” said my father one day to a negro, “here’s a dram of whiskey for you twenty-five years old.” Looking dubiously at the liquor in the glass Bill said, “Yes masseh, I see; but I declare dat’s de smallest chile fur’s age I’ve ever seed.” [Laughter]” 

African Wit and Humor. Congressman Cox on the Fun in a Negro’s Character

This article prompts me to consider our discussions on minstrelsy and black entertainment. Who was Cox’s audience, and what did they take away from his remarks? In an era when minstrelsy thrived, such performances often perpetuated racial caricatures. Cox’s commentary, while seemingly benign, fits within this larger narrative, reinforcing existing stereotypes while providing a space for laughter that masks deeper societal issues. His approach allows the audience to laugh at perceived quirks of black life, subtly reinforcing their social dominance by portraying black individuals as mere figures of humor rather than as complex human beings. This raises important questions about the implications of humor in understanding culture.

The laughter that once echoed in the Lincoln Center is a reminder of how humor can be wielded as both a tool for connection and a weapon of marginalization. By examining these narratives critically, we can better understand the intricate relationship between race, humor, and representation—one that still resonates in contemporary discussions about race and culture in America.

WORKS CITED

  1. “African Wit and Humor. Congressman Cox on the Fun in a Negro’s Character.” NewsBank, www.infoweb.newsbank.com/apps/readex/doc?p=EANAAA&sort=YMD_date%3AA&page=4&fld-base-0=alltext&val-base-0=music%2C%20african%20american&val-database-0=&fld-database-0=database&fld-nav-0=YMD_date&val-nav-0=&docref=image/v2%3A12B28392F31992D0%40EANAAA-12C175246F8D10B0%402408516-12C175248A6ACB38%401-12C17524EC0B6BD0%40.
  2. “Cox, Congressman.” Biographical Directory of the United States Congress, https://bioguide.congress.gov/search/bio/C000839

Conceptions about Minstrel Shows

Minstrel shows are most commonly known as a performance in which black culture is represented with an extreme amount of negative stereotyping. Blackface, the practice of having a white man imitate the skin tone of an African American through the use of burned cork makeup, is presented as one of the greatest demonstrations of bad taste and racist portrayals, and often as a defining feature of these performances. However, it is easy to forget that the reality was far more nuanced.

A snippet from the New York Globe newspaper, December 22 in 1883.

As this snippet from a prominent newspaper of the time shows, it was quite often that African Americans performed in minstrel shows. Gustav Frohman was a prominent theater manager, specializing in minstrel shows, and operated one of the most successful black performance troupes of the 19th century. In his remarks to the newspaper, it can be seen that he identifies that few opportunities for African Americans exist, and that his sentiment is to give as many opportunities out as possible.

Of course, it is difficult to know if this is what he truly believes or if he is doing a variation of virtue signaling by saying that providing opportunities is important despite what he truly believes. However, the presence of such a statement in a significant newspaper indicates that such things were important to at least a not insignificant amount of people. Otherwise, why would it be in such a large publication?

Statements like these perhaps contain the notion that these shows are a good thing, as they provide opportunities that would not otherwise exist and allow for the chance to demonstrate skills. Either way, in looking back on a practice that is considered to be very distasteful today, it is valuable to consider such statements, especially those in public view, and imagine what the public perception of the event must have been, unbiased by our modern assertions.

Citations:

“Mr. Gustav Frohman.” New York Globe (New York, New York), December 22, 1883: 4. Readex: African American Newspapers. https://infoweb.newsbank.com.

James Bland: The Most Famous Composer You Never Knew

A headline from The Pittsburgh Courier (a Black newspaper) in 1939. The article is a biography of James Bland and is a response to the possible adoption of “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny” as Virginia’s state song. Full page available here

TW: Racist descriptions of Black people

If you’re American, I’m willing to bet you’ve heard of Stephen Foster. Even if you couldn’t write a dissertation on him, there’s a pretty good chance you’ve heard the name, or sung one of his famous songs, like “Oh Susanna”. But have you heard of James Bland? Like Foster, Bland made his fame as a minstrel composer and was major player in the industry in the late 19th and early 20th century, yet Bland is far less known today. The difference? James Bland was Black.

Bland was descended from a long line of free Black people (his father was educated at Oberlin College) and was born in 1854 in Flushing, New York. He was educated at Howard University. He was an extremely successful entertainer, having been part of many famous troupes, including as Sprague’s Original Georgia Minstrels and Callender’s Georgia Minstrels. And of course, he was also extremely successful as a composer. Though well known among those in the industry, Bland did not get the same recognition by the general public. He wrote over 700 songs, but only around 50 were published under his name. Some were even published under Foster’s, as Tom Fletcher, a contemporary of Bland, observed in his book 100 Years of the Negro Show Business:

“Both [Foster and Bland] flourished at the same time, during the early days of show business, but Foster’s friends and heirs kept his name before the public, a privilege Bland did not enjoy. The ideas of the two men on songs were very similar too, and very often a song written by Bland would be credited to Foster with whose name the general public was much more familiar.” (83)

Sheet music for “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny” published in 1878

In fact, when “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny” was proposed as the state song of Virginia in the late 1930s, many believed the song was written by Foster, and, according to the Pittsburgh Courier, when it was discovered to have been written by Bland, a Black composer, the proposition was almost discarded. It wasn’t, however, and Bland’s song was the state song of Virginia from 1940 to 1997, when it was removed due to its racist lyrics which sentimentalize slavery and the Old South.

A recording of “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny” from 1916

 

James Bland in many ways encapsulates the tension inherent in bringing to light the accomplishments and successes of Black minstrel performers and composers in general. Many of Bland’s most famous works, like “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny”, have lyrics that romanticize slavery. Black minstrels sometimes both literally and figuratively had to “black up”, or in other words, cater to the white imagination of what Blackness really was. But it’s important to note that Bland also composed antislavery songs like “De Slavery Chains Am Broke At Last”, and had his own voice and agency – he was not merely an imitation Stephen Foster. And also, minstrelsy was one of the earliest opportunities for Black entertainers, performers, and composers to start their careers, to make make money, and to make their voices heard. What’s more, minstrelsy is far from gone in American popular culture. Which begs the question:

So long as we remember Stephen Foster, shouldn’t we remember James Bland too?

 

Bibliography

Bland, James A. Carry me back to old Virginny. John F. Perry & Co., Boston, monographic, 1878. Notated Music. https://www.loc.gov/item/sm1878.x0004/.

Bland, James A, Orpheus Quartet, James A Bland, Josef Pasternack, Lambert Murphy, Harry Macdonough, William F Hooley, and Reinald Werrenrath. Carry me back to old Virginny. 1916. Audio. https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-20049/.

Fletcher, Tom. 100 Years in the Negro Show Business. Da Capo Press. New York 1984.

Hullfish, William R. “James A. Bland: Pioneer Black Songwriter.” Black Music Research Journal 7 (1987): 1–33. https://doi.org/10.2307/779446.

 

 

 

 

What Minstrelsy Means For American Identity

In my research of black minstrel troupes, it has become obvious that American pop culture is infused with references to minstrelsy. Although this influence becomes obvious when it is pointed out, I would like to propose a claim that might not be as readily accepted. Not only is minstrelsy heavily involved in American media, the influence of the minstrel show is a pillar of American art and media. In other words, elements of minstrelsy actually contribute to what it means for a piece of media to be “American”.

The American-ness of the minstrel show and minstrel influences can be seen in the perception of the minstrel show from audiences abroad. In my own mapping of black minstrel shows, I noticed very quickly that these shows were mostly plotted in the U.S. Perhaps this article posted in the Freeman newspaper might give more insight into why that is.

This article posted in the the Freeman in Indianapolis, Indiana on February 8, 1902 titled “The Negro Performer Abroad” explains how the minstrel show was not well received abroad. The article writes: “The English and Australians, by the way, are very austere and reserved as regards the manner of entertainment of histrons, therefore that which we here consider clever, they, over there regard indifferent and treat with almost heartless disdain. Little wonder then that early Negro minstrels met a cold reception and proved a ‘frost’”. 1

This indifferent reception shows us the extent to which American media and humor differentiated from that of Europeans and Australians. In other words, this humor is strictly American. 

We can see this inclusion of minstrel influences as well in other forms of media such as animation in more sinister, more blatant ways. For example, in Ammond’s book “Birth of an industry: blackface minstrelsy and the rise of American animation” he argues that certain characters, such as Mickey Mouse, carried “all (or many) of the markers of minstrelsy while rarely referring directly to the tradition itself”. 2 For example, in this video of the first Disney animation “Steamboat Willie”, we see that Mickey is whistling a minstrel tune and also wears the distinctive white gloves worn by minstrel performers.

 

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iep9EJ9H1aU&ab_channel=amandawelling

 

These examples of the influence of minstrelsy on American media show how truly interlaced it is with American identity. The inclusion of minstrelsy can really be seen as a staple of American identity. Although this fact is incredibly troubling, by understanding its implications, we can begin to uncover and become critical about the nature of American identity itself.

The Contradiction of Black Minstrelsy

What do you think of when you think of minstrelsy?

From our contemporary lens, it’s very easy to think of minstrelsy as a horrible, racist manifestation of white supremacy. Which, for the record, it surely was. But it wasn’t just that. For many Black Americans, black minstrelsy offered a form of employment in a depressed economy, a form of control over their representation, and a training ground for later prominent figures in other forms of Black music, like blues.

Black minstrelsy has never been universally admired, and a diversity of opinions have coexisted since its inception. As Southern writes, “The black minstrel has been much maligned by many, including members of his own race, for perpetuating the Jim Crow and Zip Coon stereotypes” (269), a statement which gets to the core struggle and contradiction of Black minstrelsy. White minstrelsy predated Black minstrelsy by several decades, and its success depended on these stereotypes. Many of the owners of Black troupes also owned white troupes. While black performers had some agency to represent themselves at least a little more authentically than white performers, Black minstrelsy still operated with many of the same expectations and for many of the same audiences. Which begs the question, what was it like for the Black performers?

W.C. Handy

The answer, of course, is complex. Rampant white supremacy and racial violence was a fact of life for Black minstrels – Handy, a member of Mahara’s Minstrels writes in his autobiography of the lynching of a band member (43) and many other acts of racially motivated violence and harassment. But Handy, who began his career in minstrelsy and later became a major player in blues, seems to recognize the importance of Black minstrelsy, writing “Historians of the American stage have slighted the old Negro minstrels” (34).

Chick Beaman, another performer from the latter days of minstrelsy, writing for the Chicago Defender, a Black newspaper, describes almost the exact opposite contradiction . “When you

begin trouping you’re dead – theatrically – and soon forgotten” he writes, “But I love it and it’s a great life. So let the band play.” This is pretty much the reverse of Handy’s experience – Beaman valued minstrelsy as a lifestyle rather than a stepping stone in his career.

So how should we view the legacy of Black minstrelsy? Being itself fundamentally a contradiction, it’s hard to say for sure. But we do know that it was an important social, economic, and musical enterprise with lasting affects today.

 

 

Bibliography

Beaman, Chick. 1921. CHICK BEAMAN: FAMOUS MINSTREL MAN PUTS ON HIS PHILOSOPHICAL SHOES. The Chicago Defender (National edition) (1921-1967), Aug 27, 1921. https://www.proquest.com/historical-newspapers/chick-beaman/docview/491909725/se-2?accountid=351 (accessed November 15, 2021).

Handy, W.C. The Father of the Blues: An Autobiography. London. Sidgwick and Jackson, 1957.

Southern, Eileen. The Music of Black Americans: A History. New York, NY. WW Norton Company, 1971.