Separating Art from the Artist in the Era of Cancel Culture
“If I were not able to separate the art from the artists, I think I would limit myself a great deal, and life wouldn't be nearly as interesting.” - Jessye Norman
Image courtesy of Unsplash
In a poignant scene from the 2022 movie Tàr, Cate Blanchett’s character, world-famous conductor Lydia Tàr, engages in a contemptuous discussion with a Juilliard conducting student about the merits of a particular subpar modern piece of music versus a tried and true classic. She asks the student why he chose a cacophonous, atonal piece that sounded like an orchestra trying to tune instead of Bach’s “Mass in B Minor.”
Max’s response: “I’m not really into Bach . . . . Bach’s misogynistic life makes it kind of impossible for me to take his music seriously . . . .nowadays, white, male, cis composers, just not my thing.”
Lydia pulls no punches with her response: “Don’t be so eager to be offended. The narcissism of small differences leads to the most boring conformity.”
Separating art from the artist has taken on new meaning in the era of Cancel Culture. Musicians, authors, and others in the public spotlight can easily find themselves canceled, their careers in shambles, for reasons ranging from innocuous comments taken out of context to full-blown egregious racism or misogyny. The line between an artist’s beliefs and their work is blurred, at best.
Just what is a devoted follower of the aesthetic to do -- blindly admire artists’ beautiful works and ignore their underlying prejudices, biases, or worse, offensive actions?
It’s not a new debate. In the 1890s French painter Paul Gauguin abandoned his well-paying job, his wife, and his children to head to Tahiti where he bedded (and married) several teenage girls, spread syphilis, and created beautiful, but difficult artwork in terms of racial and gender stereotypes.
Another problematic example is Richard Wagner, well-known for his anti-Semitism in the late 19th century. Many people believe his genius composition “Ride of the Valkyries” should be scrapped because of the composer’s bigotry. (Maybe Francis Ford Coppola used it ironically to symbolize impending military takeover and injustice in Apocalypse Now?)
And Michael Jackson? One of my dearest friends refuses to listen to any music by MJ because of child sexual abuse allegations. Jackson's unparalleled talent as a musician and performer is widely acknowledged, but his controversial personal life and allegations of child abuse have cast a shadow over his legacy. Some people argue that enjoying his music is a celebration of his artistic genius, independent of his personal troubles, while others believe that listening to his work inherently supports the artist, thus condoning his actions.
On the other hand, some artists are so inextricably linked to their works that they cannot be separated from them. Frida Kahlo suffered a terrible injury to her spine as a result of a bus accident. As a result, she was forced to wear a rehabilitative corset for many years. Kahlo used these corsets as her canvas, creating beautiful and intricate designs on them that came to represent the trauma of her accident and her unmitigated resilience as she fought to recover.
And Yungblud, a fresh, new viral internet sensation, recently released “Hated,” a song that chronicles the abuse he faced at the hands of his doctor when he was seven years old. Yungblud says that “the song is ultimately about freeing yourself from bad experiences and trauma, finding inner strength, acknowledging your past, accepting the pain and having the courage not to let it define your future.” No way can Yungblud be divided from the work he has created; it’s a representation of who he is in his soul and the trauma he has suffered.
Do we more easily forgive artists of past generations whose time has come and gone than we do current, popular stars who harbor troubling beliefs? I think maybe we do. Perhaps time and distance lessens the gravity of their sins.
Image courtesy of Unsplash
There’s certainly no “one size fits all” approach to this dilemma. Patrons of the arts must weigh the degree to which an artist’s philosophy, personal experience, and ideology pervade their works before they rush to judgment. Otherwise we’ll end up with a culture of zero art because of an overriding fear of offending.
I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m still an avid listener of the King of Pop. His playlist remains on my phone, and I often fill my afternoon commute with his iconic, nostalgic songs from my glory days.
Should we toss over artists who have offended our modern sensibilities in some way?
Lydia Tàr says it best: “If Bach’s talent can be reduced to his gender, birth country, religion, sexuality, and so on, then so can yours.”
