MoMA Mixtape: Dandy Wellington Travels Along the Great Migration

As a bandleader and event producer, music and community are my art and how I process the world around me. And as a born-and-raised New Yorker, I’ve spent many afternoons at MoMA. Experiencing the art in person gives you a look into the minds of artists to better understand their perspectives on the human condition. They reflect back to us our joys, pains, and cultures; our thirst for community and our most solitary dreams. In each of these works I see a song and hear a symphony of colors to help catalog the Black experience in this country.

Christopher Cozier’s Tropical Night + Sidney Bechet’s “Le Marchand de Poissons” (1952)

This image reminds me of stories I’ve heard about my grandfather. He was from Jamaica, and no matter how hot it got, he’d be in a three-piece suit. As a child I was always taught the value of being dressed. Your style helps to tell people who you are. This gent is so beyond dapper that if he were music, he’d be this tune.

Christopher Cozier. Tropical Night. 2006–14

Aaron Siskind. Peace Meals. c. 1937

Aaron Siskind’s Peace Meals + Cab Calloway’s “Everybody Eats When They Come to My House” (1948)

This image filled me with joy. It may be showing a business, but the place is also important to the community. I imagine the shopkeeper knows the names of everyone in the neighborhood. He’s the mayor of the block and, like in the Cab Calloway tune, everybody eats when they come to his house.

Jacob Lawrence’s The migration gained in momentum + Louis Armstrong and His Hot Five’s “West End Blues” (1928)

I was struck by the emotional duality of the moment depicted in Lawrence’s painting. On one hand, the uncertainty of leaving all you’ve ever known for an unknown but new life. On the other, the relief of finally—hopefully—departing the violence, despair, and oppression of living in the South. The exhale on the march to what comes next, Armstrong’s trumpet cadenza mimics the butterfly of nerves and uncertainty batting its wings inside your heart.

Jacob Lawrence. The migration gained in momentum. 1940–41

Dandy Wellington at MoMA

Christopher Cozier’s Tropical Night + Dandy Wellington’s “Harlem Now” (2024)

Looking at this piece, I imagined the figure dreaming of the Black paradise. For many, that was Harlem. In many ways, it is for me. That’s why I wrote this song.

Christopher Cozier. Tropical Night. 2006–14

Dandy Wellington with works from Jacob Lawrence’s The Migration Series

Jacob Lawrence’s The trains were packed continually with migrants + Noble Sissle’s “Westward Bound” (1928)

Not all African Americans went north. Some traveled west to find opportunity and refuge from violence. That hope and excitement is perfectly summed up by the metronomic shuffle of the train and frenetic sound of the horns in this masterpiece from Noble Sissle. Though it’s got a showbiz cut time, it’s no less impactful.

Dandy Wellington at MoMA

Jacob Lawrence. They did not always leave because they were promised work in the North. Many of them left because of Southern conditions, one of them being great floods that ruined the crops, and therefore they were unable to make a living where they were. 1940–41

Jacob Lawrence’s They did not always leave because they were promised work in the North. Many of them left because of Southern conditions, one of them being great floods that ruined the crops, and therefore they were unable to make a living where they were + Mahalia Jackson’s “Didn’t It Rain” (live at Newport, 1958)

These floods must have felt biblical to the many Black landowners and farmworkers whose livelihood depended on the crops they worked and sold. Their seismic nature could only be put into musical perspective by a spiritual as integral to the Black experience as “Didn’t It Rain.” Who better to illustrate the holiness of the image than one of the greatest voices ever recorded, Mahalia Jackson.

E. McKnight Kauffer’s Adora at a Party from N_____ Heaven (Illustration from Carl van Vechten’s novel)¹ + Fats Waller’s “Have a Little Dream on Me” (1934)

This piece didn’t look like a conversation, but like a romantic negotiation. It reminded me of possibly my favorite Fats Waller tune, “Have a Little Dream on Me,” which stunningly lays out the terms of such a negotiation. I imagine him—or maybe even her—bringing this lyrical wishlist to this meeting.

E. McKnight Kauffer. Adora at a Party from N_____ Heaven (Illustration from Carl van Vechten’s novel). 1931

Dandy Wellington at MoMA

Aaron Siskind. Night Club I. c. 1937

Aaron Siskind’s Night Club I + Duke Ellington’s “Cotton Club Stomp” (1929)

When they make the long-overdue Duke Ellington biopic, this tune should begin the scene depicting his orchestra’s first night at the Cotton Club. This dynamic photo feels like a still from that scene.

James Van Der Zee’s Dancer + Duke Ellington’s “Black Beauty” (1928)

Look at her, poised and present, alluring and ambitious and free. She is the thing of her ancestors’ dreams. What better tune than “Black Beauty” by Duke Ellington, a tune he dedicated to a real-life giant of the stage, Florence Mills, whose meteoric rise following the 1921 broadway show Shuffle Along—one of the first musical comedies produced, written, and performed by an African American—was tragically cut short six years later. Just like this dancer, we are fortunate we have images of Florence Mills and tunes to lift up her legacy.

Dandy Wellington looks at James Van Der Zee’s Dancer (1925), a photograph of Florence Mills.

Dandy Wellington is a bandleader, presenter, entertainer, event producer, and creative consultant who was born and raised in Harlem, New York.