Friends, Now that the election has finally come to an end, we must once again return our focus to the search for answers—for truth, if there is such a thing. After a divisive, traumatic 2016, there seems to be a feeling of urgency in the air, a desire for unity. Many people are wondering what choices led us here and trying to do something about it, engaging in debate and donation and activism. These efforts—important aspects of what resistance will look like—contribute to the deepening of our understanding of ourselves and the world. But they are incomplete without art. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the course of the last two months: the purpose of “art” in political action today. Many of us think of art as an object, a process, a performance. Others of us think of art as craft or decoration. On a basic, consumer level, I love these sorts of art and music, and they often bring me joy. But it is clear that even the most political objects and performances usually have little or no impact on the system, and sometimes even further the aims of the ruling class. As German artist Hito Steyerl eloquently states,
Contemporary art feeds on the crumbs of a massive and wide spread redistribution of wealth from the poor to the rich, conducted by means of an ongoing class struggle from above. It lends primordial accumulation a whiff of postconceptual razzmatazz.
For her, the art of the hottest new galleries and concert halls (and the art which aspires to these accolades) simply isn’t enough. Fellow artist Jonas Staal concurs, arguing that contemporary culture has “fallen prey to demagogues and populists, who utilize the spineless landscape of capitalist democracy and its art as an open field for ideas.” Today’s art is too nice, too shiny—too quickly absorbed by the capitalist machine and sold to the highest bidder. Even indie/alternative music, valuable and interesting as it can be, hardly contributes to any sort of resistance. We need art that initiates real, tangible change—art which would have its origins in collective action. This art is open, DIY, “organic,” and social, reaching out—and not just through the echo chambers of social media. It leaves the glamour of galleries and concert halls behind, even transcending the reactive qualities of zines, house shows, and punk bands (though they may be elements of it). Staal calls for a fundamental change in artmaking: “We are in need of a proactive politics and a proactive art,
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