The Art World’s Role Under Fascist Rule
by Bill Lasarow
Bradley McCallum, “The Evidence of Things Not Seen,” 2008, 104 paintings, oil on linen, toner on silk, audio. Images of protesters arrested during the 1955-56 Montgomery Bus Boycotts. Installation view at New Orleans African American Museum.
I am not one to soften the blow of the November election, nor to throw in the towel on the liberal project launched nearly a century ago. The New Deal governing architecture produced the longest period of sustained economic growth, social inclusion, expansion of individual rights, and global leadership by one country in human history. Second place doesn’t come close. But in a free and fair election, if by a very narrow margin, American voters have brought an end to that era. There will be opportunities to repeal the new period of fascist rule. But their blueprint is not to win free and fair elections, but to dismantle the competition by any means necessary.
For the art world this grim dilemma fits a binary template: accommodate these new rulers, starting with the dictator himself, or risk being marginalized or worse. If realigning the art market to suit the political agenda of a fascist dictatorship is the only viable option, then count me out. For all of the changes in how the industry operates and where its profitability comes from during this first quarter of the 21st century, freedom of expression remains the central tenet. Eliminating that from the curation of exhibitions, booths at art fairs, and bidding at auctions would drive serious artists underground. Maybe it will come to that, a divorce between the genuine creatives and the core structures that drive the art market economy.
Ed Ruscha, “Our Flag,” 2017, oil on canvas. Courtesy of thee Brooklyn Museum.
That is not what I see coming. The landscape of exhibiting galleries, museums, and other non-profit venues has shared a commitment to free expression for too long and too deeply to simply be swallowed by right-wing profiteers. If a growing segment of the art market is driven by investors treating art primarily as a financial asset, perhaps it is time for the art world to shift its emphasis back to the individual collector who buys for more personal reasons. Such a shift would result in a reduced per capita income, but it would also foster a more sustainable, aesthetic-based relationship with audiences and collectors.
The 21st century art world writ large has steadily evolved towards art becoming a hybrid form of entertainment and investment. Brand name artists from Ed Ruscha to Kerry James Marshall are seen by major collectors and the general public through that lens, however high the aesthetic standard. The rise of multi-venue, corporate-style galleries has contributed to the trend because that is where the money is. It’s not that those factors negate aesthetic experience. While aesthetic experience has remained the driving force for most practicing artists, for much of the viewing and buying audience it has become an afterthought.
Kerry James Marshall, “The Actor Hezekiah Washington as Julian Carlton Taliesen Murderer of Frank Lloyd Wright Family,” 2009, acrylic on PVC panel, 30 7/8 x 24 7/8 x 1 7/8”. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.
The emphasis on art’s commodification has been a problem for decades, a problem that has only gotten worse, and it becomes more concerning in a fascist era. The issue will morph into whether the critical and non-conformist nature of creative excellence will be regarded as permissible. And if not, what will the existing system of gatekeepers do about it?
Let’s consider those gatekeepers as the brick and mortar of the art world system, the necessary elements that shape what the public sees and therefore identifies as mainstream art of the highest quality. I will leave the artists out of this equation because I am certain that their creative drive will remain a fixed variable.
Gallery and museum exhibitions have remained, next to the creation of art, the most fixed component of the art world. During the half-century of my own career that cornerstone function of every physical exhibition space has remained unchanged except for one variable, the introduction of the world wide web in the mid-1990s. Along with many professionals working remotely rather than out of a company office, there is more art world business transacted digitally and less in person. This has also meant a decline in foot traffic (with the possible exception of opening receptions) overall, and a growing over reliance on special events to draw visitors. For museums in particular, the short-term benefits must constantly be measured against increased overhead and exposure, especially entering a period of fascism, to political pressure.
Joseph Goebbels visits “Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art)” exhibition, 1937, Institute of Archaeology in the Hofgarten, Munich. Two painting by Emile Nolde are displayed to the left. More than 2 million visitors attended from July 19 to November 30, 1937.
Imagine for example, if Trump’s NEA were to offer a large, traveling exhibition of “Degenerate Art.” The host museums could be offered a large amount of money, millions of dollars, to participate. Large donors would be steered to support those museums. This is soft coercion, but it is a proven formula to beef up friendly (to the government) institutions while starving those that stand their ground and refuse to accept what amounts to the use of art as political propaganda.
The explosive growth of the international art fair system, along with the long-standing network of auction houses, has over the last 20-30 years brought significant revenue into the art market, but as they have done so have introduced previously unknown vulnerabilities. Major art festivals such as the Venice Biennale and the quintennial Documenta served, and continue to serve, as curated summations of the latest aesthetic developments. The modern art fair originated in Cologne in 1967, followed by Paris and Basel in 1970. They introduced the model of privately owned galleries each bringing their own inventory of artworks to a one-stop space of booths paid for by each gallery. The model has grown in both size and complexity in the half-century since, but did not begin its significant expansion until 2002, when Art Basel launched its Miami edition. Today there are about 300 art fairs each year. As the basic costs and logistical complexity have increased, the model has excluded many galleries that can no longer budget for them, or can only budget for one or two smaller fairs per year. But their impact on sales, when done right, and opportunities for networking with collectors and other art world players is by now well known. Art fairs have become indispensable to many galleries that no longer depend on their home venues to thrive. At the same time, the time and expense for many galleries has gradually placed them at constant risk of being forced into the red, even forcing some out of business altogether.
Edward Kienholz and Nancy Reddin Kienholz, “Drawing for the Caddy Court,” 1986, coyote head,
deer heads, black bear head and mixed media, 87 1/8 x 87 1/8 x 31”. Courtesy of Sprüth Magers, Berlin.
In this upcoming era the stakes for these art fairs will only grow, favoring galleries — and artists — willing to shift with the political wind. Any fascist-aligned collectors from among the ArtNews top 200 who support artists whose work fits with their political interests will exert a subtle but powerful influence. Goodbye Edward Kienholz, welcome Thomas Kinkade. The impending makeover of the National Gallery collection, with all that implies, is more than a hypothetical, and in many quarters will be met with great joy and a wave of popular support. The central feature of the incoming fascist regime is that the dictator must be flattered, he must be assured that he is never in error. Conversely, the central feature of quality visual art is that nothing is to be taken as the final word, that the world of the imagination only works if it is allowed to run free.
Thomas Kinkade, “Christmas Evening,” 2005, oil on board, 24 x 32”. Courtesy of Thomas Kinkade Family Foundation.
So what can we expect from the art world in response? Will it quickly fall into line, or will it prove resistant? Will it be more or less ignored and allowed to go its own way pretty much left to its own devices? Or will it become the focal point of a new battle within the larger cultural war that has been going on for more than 30 years? Remember the precedent of the “NEA Four” (Karen Finley, Tim Miller, John Fleck, and Holly Hughes) controversy of 1990? Will the NEA be defunded over the first new controversy? If the NEA is stripped of funding what impact will that have?
It is well beyond the scope of this article to speculate or predict what impact these factors and others will have on the art world. For now I am concerned with the role that visual art will play within this new fascist system. “Resistance” will undoubtedly remain the watchword, but this is a very elastic concept. If the government sees little or no threat posed by simply ghettoizing the art world, any resistance will be regarded as insignificant in its impact. But if the government decides to crack down, how stubbornly will that resistance hold up? What risks will artists, art dealers, museum curators and others be willing to take, and up to what point?
My own focus since the early 1980s has centered on art journalism, an interest that continues to this day. The overall practice has been decimated for reasons that are widespread and well known — and that extend far beyond art journalism into journalism as a whole. As an expression of free speech art journalism mirrors the free expression practiced by visual artists; and at the same time it complements other gatekeepers’ roles. Unlike any other gatekeeping, art journalism often drives the interest of readers who then become more active viewers and in some cases collectors of the art that is reviewed and discussed.
Rick Lowe, “Cavafy Remains,” 2024, acrylic and paper collage on canvas, 144 x 336”.
Courtesy © Rick Lowe Studio. Photo: Thomas Dubrock.
I am not arguing for a return to in-print art magazine publishing, much as I miss it personally, because that model is no longer sustainable other than as an act of philanthropy. Digital platforming is now the most common currency of any publishing venture, and the ready pairing of text and image is much cheaper than in-print publishing ever was. Emerging AI-based publishing technology is without any doubt the most important step forward in publishing since the advent of desktop publishing in the 1980s — and with implications that dwarf that earlier generation.
With those broad factors in mind I believe that even under fascism the art world may well enter a renaissance in art journalism. In the next several years, with the support of art world commercial and institutional interests, art journalism can play an important role in preserving the practice of professional art writing and use it to lay the groundwork for a reformed art world economy. This new economy would more accurately reflect the creative expression of its artists and amplify their impact far beyond chasing ROI.
This is exactly the time for dedicated professional publishers and writers to engage cultural activity, giving no quarter as to its advocacy and in full public view. But this is predicated on galleries and museums around the country, in region after region, circling the wagons to commit themselves to support such efforts as a matter of aesthetic and moral principle over short-term gains. This commitment will serve as a bulwark against fascist political pressure and serve as an investment in our future — a future in which the ideals of American democracy, as conceived by the Founders, are not merely preserved but strengthened.
