Marcellous Lovelace: The Artist Behind the Album Cover of Jill Scott’s “To Whom This May Concern”

A closer look at the artist whose work caught my eye.

(Front cover of Jill Scott’s album To Whom This May Concern,
featuring artwork by Marcellous Lovelace. Photo by Tamika Cody.)

When my daughter surprised me with To Whom This May Concern on vinyl by Jill Scott, I was over the moon. For those of you who don’t know, Jill and I go way back. Her first album, Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1 got me through an emotional divorce. Every album and collaboration since has taught me lessons about life, love, and what it means to be a grown-ass woman.

To Whom This May Concern landed in my lap on Feb. 13, 2026. Yes, my daughter thought ahead and made sure it arrived on the official release date. When I pulled the album out of its shipping box, the cover immediately caught my attention. The artwork is by Chicago artist Marcellous Lovelace, whose name appears in the lower right corner of the cover.

“This is what I miss about holding music in my hands,” I said to my daughter. “The artwork.”

In the digital age of music streaming services, with platforms like iTunes, Spotify, Tidal, and SoundCloud, people often miss out on that extra layer of a musician's creativity. The artwork that accompanies full albums tells a story.

(Back cover of Jill Scott’s album To Whom This May Concern. Photo by Tamika Cody.)

Curious about the artist, I wanted to learn more about Lovelace. During one of the podcasts Scott appeared on while promoting the album, I learned she discovered his work on Instagram. She slid into his DMs, and the rest is history. The piece she chose from Lovelace’s collection is titled "SHE IS BRAVE AND FREE.”

Who is Marcellous Lovelace?

Lovelace was born in Chicago and attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

His Instagram bio reads: “Art of Marcellous Lovelace created to teach self-love and awareness of original people never conforming to Colonialism.”

On the Saatchi Art website, Lovelace explains that his work is rooted in “escaping the worst situation possible.” A few clicks later led me to his personal website, where he describes himself as an “Afro Urban Indigenous Folk Artist (AFRICAN BLACKNESS LIBERATION).”

Lovelace paints in mixed media using found materials. His work draws heavily from personal experience, including growing up in Roseland on Chicago's South Side and witnessing life in economically marginalized communities across America.

“This segregated, poverty-stricken environment helped me to develop over 400 images a year over the last 30 years of my life,” he shared. “My environment is so negative it helps me to create beauty from this struggle. I paint because it’s the only thing that feels good after feeling like I’m trapped in a world that has no hope.”

He uses everything from old pieces of paper to garbage cans, tires, mattresses, and construction debris from torn-down buildings.

The tragedies that occurred in the city where he was raised helped him reinterpret oppression across a wide range of surfaces. His work also aligns with long-standing African artistic traditions where material carries spirit, history, and function.

“My surfaces absorb the trauma, endurance, and lived reality of Black life in America,” he writes in his bio.

His work is inspired by African American artists such as Thornton Dial, Lonnie Holley, Elizabeth Catlett, Noah Purifoy, and Betye Saar, who used discarded materials as historical evidence against erasure, poverty, and racial violence.

Such an inspiring artist. And knowing the story behind the artwork makes Jill Scott’s To Whom This May Concern feel even richer. The music tells one story. Lovelace's painting tells another. Together, they feel like the same conversation.

#BlackWomenAtWork: Why I removed my ‘race blinders’

From the archives on May 24, 2017


For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been racially colorblind. The topic of Civil Rights was never part of family discussions. If anything, we talked about how we were going to arm ourselves with knowledge and then use it to live the American Dream. As a precaution, I wore race blinders to minimize my involvement in any racially charged issues taking place around me in Corporate America.

During my young adolescent years, my Jamaican mother used to say, “Don’t blame the color of your skin for the things you do not have.” The “things” she was referring to were education, success, and a thriving career.

Earning a degree in journalism allowed me to work in local television newsrooms, write for financial publications and it even gave me a peek into the advertising world. All of this was possible because I pursued an education, which led to a successful career in media.

My race blinders kept me laser-focused. They kept me safe from any ethnic uprising in the workplace. They kept me in check. But when I started to navigate my way through the labyrinth of Middle-class America I soon realized my race blinders was keeping me from the truth.

Climbing the corporate ladder as a woman, or as Sheryl Sandberg described it in her bestselling book Lean In, “the jungle gym,” has been quite a struggle. But as a Black woman working in corporate America, my journey has been even more challenging.

Ring the Alarm

At first, I didn’t notice any red flags. Early in my career an executive news producer, who was also a Black woman, opened my eyes and rang the alarm. “In the news business, you have to work twice as hard because you’re a woman. And you have to work five times harder because you’re a Black woman.”

Till this day, those words stick to my soul. I took that piece of advice and ran with it. In every position I held over the years, I made sure to arrive at the office early, stay late, dress sharp and go above and beyond what my employers asked me.

Putting in the Work

The red flags didn’t start to show up until I decided to transition from local news to financial journalism. For the 10 years I covered finance, I had to prove myself every day. To start, I made it my duty to read everything I could get my hands on:

• Accounting
• Analysts Reports
• Annuities
• Divestitures
• Earnings Calls
• Fiduciary Rule
• Financial Advisors
• Initial Public Offerings (IPOs)
• Investment Bankers
• Life Insurance
• Mergers & Acquisitions
• Private Equity
• SEC Filings
• Venture Capital
• Wealth Management

… and the list goes on.

I’d watch my editors take White junior reporters under their wing to train them for success. I thought I would be next in line for one-on-one training, but my turn never came. While waiting in vain, I would concoct strategic plans to get in the good graces of my editors. Unfortunately, they were always too busy or didn’t have enough room in their nest.

The Only One

It’s no secret that White men dominate the financial world. It’s very rare that I saw anyone who looked like me at financial services industry events. The moment I stepped into a conference, I would count how many Blacks were in the room. Then I would count the Latinas, Asians and so on. I was usually the only minority.

As a matter of fact, it is the same landscape in the financial journalism world. Most of my colleagues are White men and women. They all hold degrees from pristine colleges, and they make sure to remind me anytime I want to give my insight on a story or a project. “Tamika, please know that I went to Columbia Journalism school for my masters. And I’m certified in social media, CMS, SEOs, and blah, blah, blah.”

They made me feel like my journalism degree from the University of South Carolina didn’t matter. Their put-downs and insults struck a nerve which caused me to work even harder.

Black Woman Left Behind  

Those same White colleagues were on the fast track for promotion. Every time one of them got promoted I would get to the office earlier, stay later and read all of the financial publications cover to cover. “You’ve got to work twice as hard” kept ringing through my mind. It seemed that I was on a hamster wheel running toward a goal that I would never reach.

Then one day, a White colleague brought it to my attention the reason why I was getting passed over for promotion over and over again. “Do you think it’s because you’re Black?”

My co-worker pointed out that reporters on the fast track were White and Jewish, just like our boss. And every other week they were moving up in rank. “Race and religion shouldn’t have anything to do with why I’m not getting promoted,” I said to my co-worker. “My mother said not to blame the color of my skin for the things I don’t have. I just have to work harder for the things I want.”

I was beyond upset. But after I settled my emotions I realized that my co-worker had a point. I confronted that boss and explained how our team was perceiving him. He told me I just wasn’t ready. I pushed back and said I would not accept that as an answer. “If I see another promotion announcement and my name is not in the subject line, please know I’m putting in my two-week notice on that day.”

One month later, I received a promotion.

Replacement Blinders

After that experience I realized I had to remove the “race blinders” my mother gave me. It was clear to me that racism exists in Corporate America and it’s hard to prove. I ended up trading my “race blinders” for passive blinders.

Afraid to get fired, I ignored undercutting remarks from editors, reporters, and clients. Afraid to be labeled “the angry Black woman” I would keep my mouth shut when I heard “alternative facts” spewed about the Black community.

The one time I removed my passive blinders, my Black female co-worker pulled me aside and warned me that our boss doesn’t like it when we disagree with him or question him. “Wow, Masta got you under his thumb,” I thought to myself. “I will not bow down. I am a grown-ass woman, and I will continue to give my insight respectfully.”

And because I refused to obey the rules, “Masta” decided that it was time to make some changes. After only 10 weeks on the “Plantation,” the company said it was in financial despair. Guess whose position got cut for the New Year? I picked up my passive blinders, placed them back on my head and went back to square one.


If only I could just figure out how to remove the passive blinders and keep them off as I did with my race blinders. Working in Corporate America as a Black Woman has its perks said no one ever!

TC's Views: Women, Please Stop the Madness

From the archives of Feb. 2017

The 90-minute horror flick, Get Out, sparks conversation about racism and the loyalty of White women.

Out of all the reviews I read about how writer-director Jordan Peele pulled the nail-biting film together, Kendra James’ headline in the Feb. 28, 2017 article, left me wanting to know more.

The headline, which appeared in my Facebook feed: "Get Out Perfectly Captures the Terrifying Truth About White Women" … made me think that I was missing out on a big secret.

Then the subhead made me scratch my head a bit: "There are many scary things about the movie, but scariest of all is its realistic depiction of racism."

I then had to read the following three thoughts of the Cosmopolitan article several times:

• "White women have always played, and continue to play, a large part in upholding the supremacy. They have not held the best interests of people of color. Putting full trust in them has often been to our detriment. "
  
• "The idea that a white woman you see as your potential friend or ally will eventually prove to be looking out for her own best interests over yours or the greater good. These are concepts that the people of color watching this film (Get Out) are intimately familiar with."
  
• "In Get Out, writer-director Jordan Peele takes 90 minutes to meditate on a lesson Kim Kardashian once spelled out for America via snake emojis and Taylor Swift: White women are not to be trusted." - Kendra James via Cosmopolitan.

TC's Views

As a Black woman working in Corporate America, I'm intimately familiar with "women" looking out for their own best interest ... not just White women.

It's rare to find women, of any race, whose friendship is genuine. As a precaution, when I first engage with a female co-worker or a "new" female friend I tend to keep most of them at arm's length.

My own personal experience has taught me to form a bond with women who I immediately click with including, Blacks, Whites, Latinas, Asians, etc.

Scary movies aren’t my thing. I have no intentions of going to see the movie but I do want to know if the main character in the film manages to Get Out. Thanks to Wikipedia, I learned that he did.