In a pivotal year when more voters than ever in history will head to national polls worldwide, Glass considers why art is still an imperative vehicle for activism
THE WINDY weather, blustery showers and layered outfits have finally melted into distant memory as we sink into the summer season of strawberries and cream, pints and picnics, breezing past the midpoint of the year. It’s a historic year in which more than half of humanity is living in a country holding a national election. And where there’s politics, there’s protest, and where there’s protest, there is art. Indeed, there is always art.
Barack Obama “Hope” Poster by Shepard Fairey, 2008
Art is often a documentation of the past, reflections on the present or predictions for the future. Plato and Aristotle spoke of mimesis (the basic theoretical principle in the creation of art) as the re-presentation of nature. In all cases, art is a conversation, consciously or subconsciously, between the canvas, the painter and the viewer – each bringing their own needs and contexts to the work.
Art has long been a powerful vehicle for activism and political propaganda, operating as a conduit for dissent and a tool for ideological dissemination. Historically, the distinction between these two functions has often been blurred, with the artist’s intent and the audience’s reception playing pivotal roles in determining the categorisation.
In contemporary discourse, this duality remains pertinent, reflecting broader socio-political currents. As we move through 2024, a year where four billion people have the chance to cast their vote, how will art be utilised within this simultaneously fraught and hopeful political landscape?
“The Problem We All Live With” by Norman Rockwell, 1963, Norman Rockwell Museum Collections. ©NRELC, Niles, IL.
Art as activism seeks to challenge the status quo, using visual language to provoke thought, inspire action and catalyse social change. Theoretical frameworks from thinkers like Jacques Rancière emphasise the “distribution of the sensible”, where art reconfigures the perceptual field to make visible the marginalised and the oppressed.
The evocative imagery used to address ongoing social injustices in Norman Rockwell’s The Problem We All Live With (1964), depicting Ruby Bridges’ walk to an all-white school during the struggle for civil rights, renders the systemic racism of the era starkly visible.
Conversely, art as political propaganda often aims to reinforce dominant ideologies, subtly or overtly manipulating public perception to align with specific agendas. This is evident in historical examples such as Soviet Socialist Realism or the use of art in Nazi Germany, where the state dictated all creative production to propagate ideals of national identity and political purity.
Dmitri Vrubel’s My God, Help Me to Survive This Deadly Love (1990), depicting an embrace between Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev and East German leader Erich Honecker in 1979, serves as a modern example of how political regimes use art to project power dynamics and ideological unity, even if it is later reinterpreted and recontextualised with irony and critique.
“Not On My Watch Plate” by Carrie Mae Weems, Artists for Democracy 2024
The Protest and Power exhibition at Tate Modern in 2022 illustrated the contemporary interplay between activism and propaganda. Featuring artists like Banksy and Ai Weiwei, the exhibition darted between the lines of subversive art and its co-option by mainstream institutions. After the Chinese government confiscated his passport, Ai placed fresh flowers in the basket of a bicycle outside his studio every day until his travel rights were restored, (With Flowers, 2013).
This act of quiet defiance not only protested his personal circumstances but also critiqued broader issues of freedom and human rights in China. However, the commodification of Ai’s work and his celebrity status within the art world raise questions about the intersection of genuine activism and its absorption into the art market.
“With flowers” by Ai Wei Wei, Photograph by Ai Wei Wei
Terry Richardson’s portraits of Barack Obama from 2012 and Shepard Fairey’s Hope poster (2008), created during his presidential campaign, exemplify this tension. While the poster, and portraits, galvanised a movement and symbolised a new era of political optimism, the widespread commercialisation and eventual absorption into popular culture raise questions about the commodification of activist art.
Sixteen years on and Fairey, now 54, is hard at work as the US election looms, co-chairing Artists for Democracy 2024 with Carrie Mae Weems: “Art has a singular ability to shape our society and our politics. We’re using it to turn out the vote in 2024.”
Formed four years ago with an Enough of Trump campaign, the group of internationally renowned artists have recommitted to making art, displayed on everything from billboards to bus wraps to baseball caps, across the swing states with a fervent belief that it “has the power to change perceptions and inspire action, cutting through the noise and speaking to our hopes, fears, and dreams”.
“Obama at my studio” by Terry Richardson
We’ve seen the national and international influence of activist art in movements such as #BlackLivesMatter, where visual culture played a critical role in mobilising support and amplifying voices. The viral spread of murals and posters, like those by Fairey, demonstrate how art can transcend traditional galleries to occupy public and digital spaces, resonating with Judith Butler’s idea of performative acts in the public sphere as articulated in Notes Toward a Performative Theory of Assembly (2015). As digital platforms continue to evolve, what new forms will activist art take to engage and mobilise the global electorate in 2024?
The intersection of art, activism and political propaganda continues to be a fertile ground for inquiry and public engagement. With a growing awareness of art’s dual capacity to both challenge and uphold power structures, curators urge viewers to critically engage with the visual narratives that shape our collective consciousness.
As we navigate the political landscape of 2024, the role of art in reflecting and influencing socio-political dynamics will be more crucial than ever. How are artists responding to the challenges and opportunities of this pivotal year, and what impact will their work really have on the global stage?
by Phoebe Minson