Mother Mart Moses Moore (photo by Jim Barcus)
Honoring key contributors to Kansas City’s Black art history
When an elder dies, it is as if a library has burned to the ground.
African proverb
This African proverb popularized by Malian writer Amadou Hampâté Bâ is a reminder that, in a society that places both whiteness and youth at the top of the social order, those on the other end, aged Black men and women, are those invisible, yet invaluable, griots in our midst.
Kansas City’s canon of Black artistic history is rich and deep thanks to the contributions of such griots in our midst, from painter Juanita Maxine Harris Gibson, who passed at the age of 102 in 2024 to quilter and still-active curator Sonié Joi Thompson-Ruffin.
Renowned painter Lonnie Powell, 84, founder in 2001 of The Light in the Other Room collaborative of Kansas City African American artists, is nationally known, both for his work in museum collections and his career as a painting instructor at Lincoln High School/Lincoln College Preparatory Academy.
George C. Mayfield, who has been painting for more than 50 years, has completed commissions of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. for the Black Historical Society of Kansas City and the King Center for Nonviolent Change. Two of his paintings are permanently displayed in the Kansas Museum of History and the State Capitol of Kansas.
Other extraordinary figures who have shaped Kansas City’s Black art history include Mother Mary Moses Moore, an 81-year-old jazz and blues singer, poet and performance artist known for her performances at the Mutual Musicians Foundation and with legendary quartet Wild Women of Kansas City, and Maurice Copeland, a 78-year-old lifelong activist and artist, who was one of the first Black gallery owners in Kansas City and the first Black artist to exhibit in Kansas City’s City Hall.
Mother Mary Moses Moore
“I’m doing as good as any human being can be doing at this time. I’m doing the best I can,” Moore said in a phone interview. Born in the deep south town of Froggy Bottom, Louisiana, she remembers picking cotton as a child. “We picked it early in the morning while it was still damp because it weighed more. By the time I was 12 or 13, I averaged about 75 pounds of cotton per day,” she said.
Moore’s resume is vast and includes performances incorporating singing, poetry, acting, writing and storytelling. In addition to solo and group performances locally, she was the first multiple winner at Showtime at the Apollo. A resonating voice for positive change, Moore has served her community as a DJ for KKFI 90.1 FM and President of Education & Blues in The Schools with KC Blues Society. In 1999, she travelled the Middle Passage in a 120-foot sail ship as part of The Homeward Bound Foundation to lower a monument onto the ocean floor honoring the millions who perished in the Transatlantic Slave Trade.
Moore holds vivid memories of the virulent racism into which she was born. Just looking a white person in the eyes could result in a severe beating … or worse. One of 13 children, she recalls her own father, on his deathbed, recalling the nine lynchings he had seen in his lifetime. “I lived the nightmare,” she said.
Moore remembers digging a hole into the ground and screaming into it, “God, why did you do this to me?” Her mother found her, took her home, sat her down and reminded her “Mary, you are somebody.”
When Moore graduated from high school, her mother forced her to decline a full scholarship for music and marry a much older man. She soon gave birth to five children. Life happened, and by the mid-1970s, she was in Kansas City, singing at Mutual Musicians Foundation and other clubs. Viewed by her family to be “singing for the Devil,” she had to support herself, both financially and emotionally. She remembers the late Ruby Wilson allowing her to sing a song with her band, which led to her own band.
Through her involvement with The Kansas City Blues Society, her soulful style evocative of the Delta Blues carried her across the United States and Europe. For a time, she lived in Europe, travelling from one country to another. She lived in Germany and Switzerland. Like many Black artists of the time, she was more celebrated in Europe than in the United States. “I see why James Baldwin left and never came back,” she said.
Except for occasional performances, Moore is now retired. Her children and grandchildren are grown and living in various places around the world. On May 24, 2026, she will be honored by the 18th and Vine Festival Foundation at their annual Honors Awards.
“Hone your craft. Be impactful with your presentation and captivate your audience. Live from your heart and not from your head,” are the words of advice she offers younger artists.
“I’m hopeful for the future” are the words she finished our interview with, her voice beginning to crack with emotion.
Maurice Copeland
“I never was not an activist,” says Maurice Copeland. “When I see something that doesn’t jive with me, I ask why,” he said. “I always ask why.”
At 16, Copeland left Central High School in 1964 and joined the United States Army. Within weeks, he found himself with the 214th Combat Aviation Battalion fighting in Quy Nhon, Vietnam. Stationed at Camp Bearcat, he was honorably discharged after three years and then began a 32-year career working at Bendix, where parts for nuclear weapons were made.
In 2018, Copeland received the Charles E. Bebb Peace Merit Award from PeaceWorks Kansas City. The press release reads: “Copeland was and is a friend to countless workers and family members who became sick or died from contaminants at the KC (Bendix) Plant. He also ran for Congress as a member of the Green Party.”
Copeland was a trailblazer. In the 1970s he owned and operated Mirror Image Studio and Art Gallery at 72nd and Prospect, but repeated break-ins forced him to close the gallery. In his wake, 20 years later, came dedicated Black gallerists including Pat Jordan and Ron and Dorothy Chaney. (Also instrumental in providing exposure for Kansas City’s Black artists was the American Jazz Museum’s inaugural executive director Rowena Stewart, who oversaw multiple Black art exhibits during her tenure from 1995 to 2002.)
In addition to creating imagery ranging from pastoral scenes to nudes to still life and addressing topics from romantic relationships to social and environmental issues, Copeland has been a poet for the last half-century with work parallel in ideology to his social activism. His work challenges the system.
A relative of Langston Hughes, Copeland counts the late Horace Peterson, founder of the Black Archives and a high school classmate, as a good friend. When Peterson said that he “wanted” to do a Black History/Juneteenth exhibition, Copeland said to “stop wanting to do it and instead just do it.” The result was an exhibit of Copeland’s work at the Kansas City Missouri City Hall. He was the first Black man ever to have an art exhibit there.
“We need to stop crying and hollering about what hasn’t been done and instead expound and build upon the historic things we have done,” is Copeland’s advice to today’s Black art community. “Every Black History month, you should have an exhibition at City Hall. We have to challenge the system to respect us.”
To younger artists, Copeland says, “I like what you are doing. You are doing some fantastic things. Don’t ever quit. You can’t quit. Your art is a part of your essence. If you quit, it will come out of you in some way because you are missing something.”
One consistent among all these artists is the idea of legacy and community. These creative elders and griots firmly believe in passing on skills and knowledge to the next generation. Seventy-year-old Lolita Looney has been painting and teaching children to paint for 54 years. Her daughters have carried her light into their own recognized art practices.
“Stay true to what moves you and create from it,” Looney advises younger artists. “Seek to serve others who show up to see your work. Listen and learn what they are experiencing when interpreting what they see. When your work leaves an effect… It’s done its job. No matter what you believe … art is spiritual. Don’t miss that… It’s the best part!”
“When an elder dies, it is as if a library has burned to the ground” is not just a solemn truth to ponder but a call for us to celebrate these elders, lift them up, and learn from them while we still can.
As Kansas City artist and curator Shaka K. Myrick observes, “Without the Black people of the generations before us, we would not have the access and freedoms that we have today. Without the commitment to art from the Black community, we would not have the history and memories we have today. So, without Black artists that came before us we would have nothing to begin to shape our future.”
The libraries are still open. It’s up to us to enter and learn.
