As the Civil War ended and the Reconstruction era began, African American life underwent a seismic transformation. The institution of slavery had been abolished, but the path forward was anything but clear. During this time, the visual arts became a powerful—though complicated—means of exploring the promise and complexity of emancipation.
While African Americans had technically been granted their freedom, the question of what that freedom would look like—politically, socially, and visually—remained unresolved. Artists, both Black and white, sought to depict this new reality. But many early portrayals, particularly by white artists, often sought to emphasize sentimentality or offer reassurance to white viewers.
One notable example is Eastman Johnson’s 1863 painting The Lord is My Shepherd, which we touched on in Part I. Painted shortly after the Emancipation Proclamation, the work shows a Black man reading a Bible—a quiet, dignified image. While it was meant to convey piety and promise, it was also crafted to soothe anxieties among white viewers unsure of what emancipation might bring.
Another striking work from the Reconstruction era is Winslow Homer’s A Visit from the Old Mistress (1876). Here, in one of the most compelling representations of race-relations in 19th-century painting, Homer captures a deeply tense and ambiguous moment. Three Black freedwomen and a child appear in a tense encounter with the rigidly defined figure of an elderly white woman in widow’s weeds, presumably the onetime “mistress” who must now pay for their labor. It is a powerful visualization of the unspoken emotional and political negotiations taking place across the South at the time, with women at its center.
The Emergence of Black Artists — and the Exile Required to Thrive
As the 19th century progressed, a small number of Black artists began to gain recognition—but often not in the United States. The environment in post-Reconstruction America was deeply hostile, marked by the rise of Jim Crow laws and the ensuing racial violence. Many artists, seeking freedom from prejudice and the opportunity to develop their craft, moved abroad.
One of the most notable expat artists was Edmonia Lewis, a sculptor of African American and Native American descent. Lewis found artistic and personal freedom in Rome. She famously said, “The land of liberty had no room for a colored sculptor.”
Her 1867 marble sculpture Forever Free depicts a Black man standing tall with a broken shackle in his hand—unlike most other contemporary emancipation imagery, which typically showed freed individuals kneeling. Lewis reimagined the emancipation narrative, placing power and agency firmly in the hands of her Black subjects.
Arguably her most famous piece, The Death of Cleopatra (1876), stunned critics when it was exhibited at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition. Nearly 3,000 pounds of carved marble, it was praised as the finest sculpture at the fair. Yet the work soon disappeared—reappearing decades later in a junkyard after being used to mark a horse’s grave at a racetrack. Its journey echoes the invisibility and erasure faced by many Black artists, both during their lifetimes and afterward.
Another pioneering Black artist of this period was Henry Ossawa Tanner. Trained in Philadelphia under Thomas Eakins, Tanner ultimately moved to Paris in 1891. He later said, “I cannot fight prejudice and paint at the same time.”
Tanner’s 1893 painting, The Banjo Lesson, remains one of the most iconic images in African American art. Tanner’s work shows a tender moment between a grandfather and his grandson, in which the grandfather teaches the young boy how to play the instrument. By capturing the passing of knowledge through generations through this intimate act, he challenged prevailing racist caricatures established in the minstrel shows we touched upon in Part I, and offered a new vision of Black life rooted in humanity and care.
Legacy of Resistance and the Road Toward the 20th Century
The period following the Civil War set in motion a new chapter in the visual representation of African Americans. Although most depictions during Reconstruction were still filtered through white lenses, Black artists like Lewis and Tanner laid the foundation for a more autonomous artistic identity. They also exposed the barriers that persisted—and the difficult choices Black artists had to make to overcome them.
As we transition into the 20th century, we will see how the momentum of the Great Migration and the cultural explosion of the Harlem Renaissance reshaped the visual narrative entirely with African American artists redefining the meaning of Blackness in American art.
Next up in Part III: Migration, Modernism, and the Harlem Renaissance
*This content was created for the ISA 2025 Assets Conference.