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When the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts opened its doors in September 1971, the occasion was marked by a solemn celebration and the premiere of a groundbreaking work by Leonard Bernstein: the eclectic Mass, commissioned by the widow of the nation’s first Catholic President. Yet, one significant figure was notably missing from the high-profile event: President Richard Nixon.
Nixon’s absence was deliberate. His administration had thoroughly examined Bernstein’s FBI file, which ultimately totaled over 800 pages and was later obtained by The New Yorker’s classical music critic Alex Ross through a Freedom of Information Act request in 2009. Officials warned that Bernstein’s new creation might reflect his well-documented opposition to the Vietnam War. To avoid an awkward evening, Nixon chose to attend a National Symphony Orchestra event instead, effectively keeping his distance from Bernstein, whom he disparagingly referred to as a “son of a bitch.” Nixon’s relationship with the arts was one of caution; he recognized the influence of cultural engagement but preferred to avoid confronting it directly.
Fast forward to fifty years later, and Donald Trump mirrored this approach during his first term, opting to stay away from the Kennedy Center. This choice was influenced by the annual Kennedy Center Honors ceremony, which celebrates a select group of artists for their cultural achievements. Typically, the President and First Lady grace this glamorous occasion and host the honorees at the White House. However, during Trump’s first year, three of the honorees threatened to boycott the event rather than share the spotlight with him. Faced with this politically precarious situation, Trump chose to skip the ceremony for the rest of his term, allowing artists like Norman Lear and Lin-Manuel Miranda to attend without the need to engage with him. For Trump, this was a Nixon-style diplomatic strategy, as he never set foot in the nation’s premier performing arts venue.
Now, however, Trump appears to be taking a more proactive stance. In just a few days, he dismissed board members appointed by Joe Biden and appointed himself as the chairman of the governing board, placing loyalist Richard Grenell in the role of interim leader. By Wednesday, his control over the institution was seemingly solidified when a board made up entirely of Trump appointees voted unanimously to appoint him as chairman, granting him authority over artistic decisions on the national stage.
“We are going to make The Kennedy Center a very special and exciting place!” Trump proclaimed on his social media platform.
The immediate aftermath of Trump’s takeover was evident with the ousting of long-time president Deborah F. Rutter and musician Ben Folds resigning from his position as an artistic advisor to the National Symphony Orchestra, which operates out of the Kennedy Center.
Trump’s influence could prominently manifest during the Kennedy Center Honors. While the honorees are selected by the board and previous awardees, it’s hard to imagine recent recipients like Oprah Winfrey and George Clooney accepting such honors with Trump’s presence looming over the event. Over the next four years, the Kennedy Center Honors could end up recognizing only those artists willing to associate themselves with Trump.
A similar shift may occur with another Kennedy Center tradition—the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor—typically determined by a somewhat obscure group of insiders. This esteemed award has celebrated figures such as Dave Chappelle, Jon Stewart, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus in recent years. Conan O’Brien, the honoree this year, has largely remained apolitical but did support Biden in 2020.
While the stakes may seem minor—celebrities potentially missing out on accolades isn’t the most pressing issue—the artistic decisions made at the Kennedy Center can echo throughout Hollywood and beyond. With around 2,200 events hosted each year, attracting 2 million visitors, the center’s programming can subtly shape perceptions of national identity. The presence of the Secretary of State at board meetings underscores the importance of the Kennedy Center in cultural diplomacy, as the Honors often serve as a platform for the State Department during its weekend festivities.
On the surface, Trump attributes his takeover to recent events at the Kennedy Center featuring drag queens. However, at the heart of this decision lies his desire to influence future programming.
“We took over the Kennedy Center because we didn’t like what they were showing and various other things,” Trump stated on Monday. “I’m going to be the chairman, and we’re going to ensure that it’s good and not ‘woke.’”
The intersection of politics and the arts has never been straightforward, and the specter of boycotts often looms over institutions that risk alienating their donor base. Cultural organizations are cautious about offending a President who seems poised to retaliate against dissent. Following Trump’s executive order aimed at dismantling diversity programs in the federal government, even the Smithsonian—despite not being a federal entity—swiftly abandoned its own initiatives, largely because two-thirds of its workforce consists of federal employees and Congress holds oversight and funding authority.
In a similar vein, companies with ties to the government are taking steps to avoid drawing negative attention from Trump. For example, Booz Allen, a key government contractor, recently announced its withdrawal as a lead sponsor of this summer’s World Pride event, expected to draw up to 3 million LGBTQ attendees to the D.C. area.
The atmosphere of anxiety is palpable. We stand on the brink of witnessing a Kennedy Center filled with programming that reflects Trump’s preferences.
On his social media platform, Trump shared an AI-generated image of himself as a conductor, captioning it, “Welcome to the New Kennedy Center!” This follows the abrupt removal of 18 board members, which has sent shockwaves through the D.C. arts community that had anticipated another four years of relative indifference.
Nixon understood that the audience for the Kennedy Center extended beyond Washington D.C.; performances on that campus were observed by the world. Despite facing public criticism, he refrained from attending, allowing artistic expression and free speech to thrive without fear of censorship. In contrast, Trump is positioning himself as a gatekeeper of American culture. For him, the Kennedy Center is simply another platform that he may curate according to his own preferences, seemingly disregarding the broader implications for national identity.
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