The greatest irony about the state of the world over the last decade or so is that, once upon a time, I would have been content to just stay quiet about my personal beliefs and political affiliations. I had previously held the opinion that the arts especially should be nonpartisan, thus enabling everyone from all walks of life to simply enjoy a story or a beautiful visual piece.
But that’s not how it works, is it? Art has always been a reflection of the human condition, be that when we are at our best—say, perhaps, like during the Renaissance—or when we are at our worst—say, perhaps, like when we create wartime propaganda. In that sense, art is almost always political. Or, at least, it always opens a window into another person’s beliefs and experiences, drives and desires based on the current societal structures of their time. And when we live in a world that politicizes everything, including how we live our own personal lives, it most certainly makes the art we produce—and how we present it—political.
So, when the cast of Les Misérables chooses not to perform for a sitting president, it is not a sign of unprofessionalism: it is an act of political protest—which, last I heard, was one of our Constitutional rights. Going back to the irony I mentioned previously, once upon a time it wouldn’t have made any difference who was in the audience, no more for the performers than it would have for other audience members. But when the administration of a free country has proven time and again that they’ll only acknowledge freedom if it applies to them, then it is not only an artist’s right, but their duty to protest. To refuse to perform, or else to continue creating, depending on the context of the situation.
The irony is that if the current administration hadn’t made the conscientious choice to make everything political, the rest of us wouldn’t be making so much noise. We could have continued living in a world where you could just go to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, regardless of who you voted for or where you stand on the political spectrum, and enjoy a show. We could have just continued living in a world where many of us remained silent about who we are and what we believe just to grudgingly keep the peace among our more fragile and sensitive relatives and readers. We could have just continued living in a world where I could focus solely on my fiction writing and not feel the need to get political.
The irony is that Mr. Richard Grenell should make a statement that the Kennedy Center “wants to be a place where people of all political stripes sit next to each other and never ask who someone voted for,” while he sits at the head of a board where any possible opposition to his personal agenda, and that of his puppet master, has been purged; where people of only one political stripe are represented, and that stripe is his. The irony is that he should make such a big fuss about “intolerance” while he kowtows to an administration that is doing everything it can to erase the people it disagrees with from existence.
The irony is that getting political is one of the last things I ever wanted to do with my life and my writing. But, here we are. Kudos to the cast members who made a choice, with the freedom they were granted in this free country, to refuse to perform for a tyrant. It is exactly what American revolutionaries would have done back in their day… As well as throwing tea into Boston Harbor and tarring and feathering people. (Think about it for a second.)
The arts are always political in that they hold a mirror up to the world we live in. And for those of us who create, it is our responsibility as well as our privilege. And for those of us who would otherwise create quietly, now, I fear, is the time to get loud.
Night Owls, what will you do to spark a revolution?
