Back in March, TW Magazine published commentary by me called “Which Way We Going Now?” What I wondered in that piece was how artists of all types were going to respond to changes forced on us by this new administration.
The last time we had to deal with those same folks, the only significant artistic attempts to consistently address problems they were creating for the country seemed to come from comedians (and cable news talking heads having fun with various eye-rolling group exercise sessions). Now, however, we are living with a 2nd Term version of what some call the most incompetent, venal, and hostile administration in history. I promise not to go into detail about their shenanigans. Anything I attempt to describe explicitly from yesterday will be overshadowed by new bizarre travesties tomorrow.
What concerns me most these days is that many of my fellow citizens feel somehow drenched by nonstop daily waves of anger and frustration at what is happening to the country we love. A blast or two now and then of liquid anger and frustration can serve as fuel for figuring out how to fight back. But too much of it is dangerous. Besides the obvious problem of being swamped with rage, it is equally as dangerous to give up and fold in on one’s commitment to living a good and happy life and–at least for some of us–pushing to see a more humane, just, and sustainable society.
Rage or passivity is where art and artists come in. Comedians are definitely still keeping us laughing in many different ways. I realized some time during that first term of these folks that comedians possibly become our most important avant-garde poets and social philosophers when times get tough in America–especially the scat speaking improvisational ones. Certainly they’re at it in a big way these days. It would be nice if Richard Pryor, Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, and Robin Williams were still leading the way, but there are plenty who have taken up their banners, from Sarah Silverman and Josh Johnson to Wanda Sykes and Amber Ruffin.
One of the first artistic statements I noticed coming right after Inauguration Day was what I kind of think of as a sound poem EP (of sorts) from musician Jon Batiste called “My United State” (two pieces “Star-Spangled Batiste Blues,” and “Notes from My Future Self”). We’ve also seen some great straight up poems of late. For instance, Jorie Graham’s “Who” published in the New York Review of Books and James Parker’s “America in 2025” in The Atlantic. I also recently discovered a great new blues musician named Buffalo Nichols whose song “Belly of the Beast” (link is to Spotify) directly points at where we find ourselves these days. The movie Sinners comes to mind as well. In fact, over the past few weeks as our government illegally rounds up people as if it were the old days of the 1850 Fugitive Slave Act, musicians, filmmakers, dancers, and visual artists everywhere are clearly gearing up to express their displeasure. The funny thing, too, right now, is that the inhumanity and hostility towards minority groups of all kinds is so blatant and unchecked that you can hear the defensiveness and aggressive denial of reality in the voices of those attempting to run the show in Washington, D.C. That defensive posturing is going to become more and more stridently hostile, ruining the effect of the Republican Party’s lying, boot licking, and gas lighting methodology. Perhaps the attacks from our creative thinkers and practitioners are gaining effectiveness already in their growing momentum.
All things considered, then, we are fortunate. Yes, America has had a perpetual battle with itself over racializing people on every level imaginable. We’ve also struggled with a never-ending hostility towards immigrants and refugees (which is so unbelievably small-minded and pathetic no matter what side of the story you think you’re on). On top of everything else, certain quarters of this society these days are voicing the desire to return to the bizarre and idiotic idea that women are somehow second-class citizens.
However, as noted, we’re fortunate. We’re fortunate because we also have a never-ending history of music, literature, painting, fashion, photography, and public creative performance going back to our beginning. Much of that creativity is a voice for people attacked by those who think they are the status quo (or wish they were). Artists also creatively address the need many of us believe in: to take care of each other, to join together, to call bull shit on lying frauds, and to fight bully politicians and a certain type of the rich elite because this is a country where everyone has equal opportunity.
There have been times in our past when artists have lit bombs and blasted rockets off (figuratively, of course), exploding in public displays that draw people together in order to face off with those trying to push American culture in the wrong direction.
The first key explosion by an artist in the resistance movement that is just beginning to ignite here in 2025 was obviously what we heard in Bruce Springsteen’s viral May 14 Manchester, England concert speeches. The Boss perfectly laid down the gauntlet for all of us who see what is happening to this country—especially those of us who are dedicated to artistic expression.
Springsteen calls the tour he and the E Street Band are on the “Land of Hope & Dreams Tour.” Hope and dreams are the magic of the arts. That magic is also a weapon to be wielded as we speak out in rebellion and resistance in favor of compassion and understanding. That’s not easy to do well—especially in this era we’re living through. But hopes and dreams and visions of a positive future for all of us are how we have moved forward together throughout our history.
We will always be re-building America. It’s in our nature (for most of us, anyway) to constantly seek ways to improve life here universally. Trying to make life better for everyone is the greatest form of creativity I can think of. The arts are not going to save us or solve the specific problems we are dealing with right now, but they can remind us that who we are as a nation is based on who we are as individuals and families and neighborhoods. Sometimes we get politicians and fellow citizens who don’t understand what I’ve written here. We’ve dealt with situations like this before. We’re going to deal with them again. And, no doubt, we’re dealing with them right now. Summer 2025 promises to be a watershed moment in this country’s 4th century. Never forget that depictions and sounds of rebellion are also about the beauty of freedom and that loving this country is all about loving each other.
A truncated version of this was published at TW Magazine at the beginning of June.
Read Jorie Graham’s “Who” at the New York Review of Books and James Parker’s “America in 2025” at The Atlantic.