Why photo colors favored light skin (and how art fights back)

A Standard Set by One Skin Tone

In an era before digital photography, photo labs relied on Shirley Cards—color-correcting reference tools featuring a white woman named Shirley. This seemingly neutral choice had unintended consequences: photos of Black individuals often emerged too dark, unnatural, or distorted. The issue wasn’t born of malice—Shirley was just a Kodak employee whose image became the industry standard. Yet the implications were stark: a system designed around a single skin tone rendered others invisible in the world’s most common medium.

Artist Jeremy Okai Davis confronts this forgotten history in his exhibition, "Presence of Color," currently on display in Charlotte. The show doesn’t just critique the past—it reimagines representation through vibrant, large-scale paintings. One standout piece portrays activist Angela Davis, inspired by her iconic 1971 Ebony magazine cover. Using a pixelated style, Davis’s work explores how technology can bridge divides rather than deepen them. His art isn’t merely about correcting historical wrongs; it’s a deliberate effort to ensure Black narratives receive the same prominence as any other.

Beyond the Canvas: A Deeper Engagement

Dr. Tamara Brothers, the exhibition’s curator, didn’t want visitors to passively observe—she wanted them to understand. Each piece is paired with meticulous descriptions, inviting viewers to grasp the layered meanings behind the brushstrokes. The opening night drew over 500 attendees, a testament to how urgently this conversation resonates. Brothers, who also works to preserve local Black history—including the storied Broadell neighborhood in Fayetteville—approaches art as both celebration and activism.

The Late (and Telling) Fix

Here’s the irony: Kodak didn’t update the Shirley Cards for racial equity. It wasn’t until the 1990s, when companies selling chocolate and furniture complained, that change finally came. Milk chocolate and dark chocolate weren’t distinguishable in prints; the same distortion that plagued Black skin tones also skewed product photography. Kodak’s solution? A broader palette of skin tones on the cards—proof that the industry could adapt when commercial interests demanded it. The delay spoke volumes about what the system valued—and what it didn’t.

"Presence of Color" isn’t just an art show. It’s a confrontation, a correction, and a call to ensure no story—no skin tone—is ever rendered invisible again.