By Zach Collier
Donnie Bonelli – a poet, comedian, musician, hip hop artist, and member of the Provo rap collective House of Lewis – passed away yesterday after a long and difficult fight with cancer. He is remembered as a light and a vessel of love.
House of Lewis is an influential force in the state’s rap and hip hop community. Founded in 2010 by producer Chance Lewis and Apt (Adam Hochhalter) to cultivate a local hip hop culture, the collective expanded to include Donnie Bonelli, DJ Skratchmo, Atheist/Rhyme Time (Scott Knopf), and DJ ChuOnWax.
Their growth came through venues like Velour, Kilby Court, and Muse Music Cafe, where they developed an irreverent, tongue-in-cheek, cross-genre sound blending hip hop with rock, funk, soul, and indie. The group was one of City Weekly’s “Best of Utah” winners; they had a stint on America’s Got Talent; and they frequently headlined major Utah festivals, opening for acts like Snoop Dogg, Common, and Run the Jewels.
Outside of music, Bonelli was a dedicated illustrator, graphic artist, photographer, videographer, and video editor. He was known for working long hours, meeting deadlines, and contributing to his projects, clients, and community in way few others could.
“Donnie loved fiercely, lived big and was passionate about so many things,” Elizabeth Galindo said in a social media post. “He has so many friends who are just as much family to him as he is to us. Blood didn’t matter, if you loved Donnie he loved you back fiercely.”
“The Utah music scene has lost a true renaissance man. Donnie Bonelli was a long time friend of Velour and one of the early hosts of our weekly open-mic night,” said Corey Fox in an official statement from Velour Live Music Gallery. “He was also an accomplished folk singer, rapper, comedian, graphic designer, and the list goes on… We are very saddened by this loss, but hope he now feels some peace after years of battling cancer. Our heart goes out to his family, band members, and those closest to him.”
Donnie noted publicly that his battle with cancer was a humbling and frustrating one. Autonomy was a core value for him, and he possessed a deeply independent spirit since childhood. But the way he shared updates about his journey was deeply hopeful and revealed his big heart.
“I’ve been so blessed to have people in my life who are generous and have been willing to assist me,” he once wrote. He continued:
I don’t take it for granted that people work hard for their money, and are willing to share with me. I want to work… I’ve been trying to come up with a way that I can give something back to those who are aiding me but all my ideas seem so useless.
I think maybe God is trying to teach me, to break my stubborn habit of going it alone all the time, but it’s hard… The saying ‘nobody is coming to save you’ has lived on repeat in my head, but God knows who his earthly angels are and he has placed many of them in my path, and he utilizes their angelic qualities to teach me that I am loved, and that people are good and gracious, and generous… I am working on plans to give back in meaningful and potent ways.
Speaking personally, Donnie has given back to me immensely. He was one of the first artists I ever saw perform live at Rooftop Concert Series when I moved to Provo. I’ve spent countless hours listening to House of Lewis, and their song “Night Games” – in which Donnie features prominently – is one of my all-time favorites. It possesses this purple, melancholic nostalgia that perfectly captures the feeling of late-night reminiscence, looking back on simpler times.
The first time I heard it, the song brought me to tears. I have distinct memories of driving alone with the windows down on summer nights with this song as the soundtrack to my looking back.
Donnie and I weren’t friends. He didn’t know me. But our social circles overlapped enough that I heard about him constantly. About the kind of man he was; the good heart he had; the plans he’d make to help others and look out for people. Now that he’s gone, “Night Games” hits so much harder, and I had to take a moment this morning to put it on repeat and cry.
Donnie is a perfect example of why we need to create music. The struggle to “make it” is a long, arduous, and often punishing one. But the things we make live on. They matter. They outlive us, and they connect us to the past and the future. I’m forever grateful for the time Donnie spent sharing his art with the world. It impacted me immensely.
Plans for celebrating his life have not been publicly announced. His family will reach out privately when plans are made.