Defending Political Art in the Face of Propaganda

My initial, and very strong, reaction to the question of whether art can serve a political purpose without being reduced to propaganda is a resounding yes. As an artist (for now disregarding the pretensions of identifying oneself as such) whose work in the past has been explicitly political, I have a vested interest in preserving the status of my works as something more worthy than mere propaganda (for now disregarding the pretensions of claiming that any such artwork made by me could be considered “worthy”). An example: I wrote a song which decries the hypocrisy of social conservatives in the face of the set of values espoused by their god in the New Testament by invoking grotesque lyrical imagery and mechanistic musical stylings reminiscent of the Slavic myth of Baba Yaga. (No adequate recording of this exists currently, otherwise I would link to it; but perhaps we are better off for it by not being seduced by the lesser artifact of the “definitive version of the musical artwork” rather than the “ideal performance,” as Wollheim would advise). I do not wish to dwell on my own experience with this issue any longer than necessary, but one experience of mine is particularly relevant. A conservative listener to this song once commented after the performance that, though she knew my intention by creating this song was to criticize her beliefs, she enjoyed it nonetheless, and preferred to think of it as a one-dimensional narrative of general witchery. She said this, under the guise of protecting me, because in her words, to acknowledge the political message would make the song no longer art, but something lesser. I don’t feel the need here to defend against this accusation of poor craftsmanship, other than to point out what has been referred to as a counter to my critic’s claims time and time again: real, widely accepted examples of artworks with political dimensions alongside their aesthetic ones (sometimes even informing and accentuating their aesthetic dimensions)– paintings such as Picasso’s cubist, anti-war art or Rivera’s vibrant, socialist murals. This exchange brings up a point not addressed directly in the readings though, that of the systems of power promoting a narrative that legitimate artworks which criticize them are actually “mere propaganda” and should be disregarded just as readily. This technique has been employed by homophobic organizations to diminish the effect of The Satanic Temple of New York’s “Pink Mass for Fred Phelps,” by the Soviet Regime to diminish the effect of Shostakovich’s Fourth Symphony, or even by the Bush administration’s implicit acknowledgement of Guernica’s power and subsequent decision to reduce it to a message rather than art at the press conference presenting a case for the war in Iraq, veiling its depiction on display at the UN headquarters.

For all of Benjamin and Adorno’s attempts to put readers on guard against propaganda presented as art (an extremely noble cause), art presented as propaganda can be equally if not more devastating. Schiller anticipates this danger indirectly by showing the incredible benefit of art as political. He claims throughout that art is the means to action– that moments of aesthetic reflection convert potentiality to actuality– going so far as to resolve that no good can come without the influence of beauty (which implies art, or at least nature). In a way, he asserts that all art is therefore political, inasmuch as it provokes changes in individuals and thereby societies.

But I was dismissive earlier of those Frankfurt school theorists, while as an artist with a political bent, I aught to embrace them. Benjamin, as a reaction to the dangers of propaganda being portrayed as art, posits a new aesthetics which sacrifices the “aura” (artificial in most cases anyway) for a radical freedom on behalf of artists. Once freed from the mindset of the cult of the genius, the act of creation no longer becomes one of waiting for inspiration, but of vast autonomy of choice and action. Older mediums are declared decrepit and new mediums can be celebrated; accessibility is enhanced for artists and for art appreciators; and the keys to artistry, once guarded by layers of elitism, artifice, and pretension, are now within the grasp of any and all. Or at least, if Benjamin’s notions were taken to their logical conclusions, that is how I think it would be.