Trump’s Kennedy Center Takeover Will Reverberate in Hollywood

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When the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts opened in September 1971, the event was marked by a solemn celebration and the debut of an innovative piece by Leonard Bernstein: the genre-defying Mass, commissioned by the widow of the nation’s first Catholic President. However, one prominent figure was conspicuously absent from the star-studded occasion: President Richard Nixon.

This absence was intentional. The White House had scrutinized Bernstein’s FBI file, which eventually comprised over 800 pages and was later acquired by The New Yorker’s classical music expert Alex Ross via a Freedom of Information Act request in 2009. Officials cautioned that Bernstein’s new work was likely to embody his well-known opposition to the Vietnam War. To sidestep an uncomfortable evening, Nixon opted for a National Symphony Orchestra event instead, effectively distancing himself from Bernstein, whom he disparaged as a “son of a bitch.” Nixon’s approach to the performing arts was cautious; he understood the power of cultural engagement but had no interest in confronting it directly.

Fast forward fifty years, and Donald Trump adopted a similar stance during his first term, maintaining a distance from the Kennedy Center. This decision stemmed from the annual Kennedy Center Honors ceremony, where a select group of artists are recognized for their cultural contributions. Traditionally, the President and First Lady attend this glamorous event and host honorees at the White House. However, in Trump’s inaugural year, three honorees threatened to boycott the event rather than share the spotlight with him. Faced with a politically delicate situation, Trump avoided the ceremony for the remainder of his term, allowing figures like Norman Lear and Lin-Manuel Miranda to attend without having to engage with him. For Trump, this was a Nixon-style diplomatic maneuver, as he never set foot in the nation’s premier venue for the performing arts.

Now, however, Trump appears to be taking a more assertive approach. In a matter of days, he dismissed board members appointed by Joe Biden and appointed himself as chairman of the governing body, installing loyalist Richard Grenell as interim leader. By Wednesday, his control over the institution seemed finalized when a board composed entirely of Trump appointees unanimously voted him in as chairman, effectively granting him the power to oversee artistic decisions on the national stage.

“We will make The Kennedy Center a very special and exciting place!” Trump announced on his social media platform.

The immediate effects of Trump’s takeover were evident, with long-time president Deborah F. Rutter ousted and musician Ben Folds resigning from his role as an artistic adviser to the National Symphony Orchestra, which is based at the Kennedy Center.

Trump’s involvement could be most prominently showcased during the Kennedy Center Honors. Although honorees are chosen by the board and past awardees, it’s hard to envision recent recipients like Oprah Winfrey and George Clooney accepting such an honor knowing Trump’s influence looms larger. Over the next four years, the Kennedy Center Honors may end up recognizing only those artists willing to align themselves with Trump.

A parallel shift could occur with another Kennedy Center tradition—the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor—typically determined by an opaque group of insiders. This prestigious award has honored figures such as Dave Chappelle, Jon Stewart, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus in recent years. Conan O’Brien, this year’s honoree, has largely remained apolitical but did back Biden in 2020.

While the stakes may seem low—famous individuals missing out on awards isn’t the gravest issue—the artistic choices made at the Kennedy Center can resonate throughout Hollywood and beyond. Hosting approximately 2,200 events annually and attracting 2 million visitors, the center’s programming can subtly influence perceptions of national identity. The presence of the Secretary of State at board meetings highlights the significance of the Kennedy Center’s role in cultural diplomacy. The Honors often serve as a platform for the State Department during its weekend celebrations.

On the surface, Trump attributes his takeover to recent events at the Kennedy Center featuring drag queens. However, underlying this is his inclination towards exerting influence over future bookings.

“We took over the Kennedy Center because we didn’t like what they were showing and various other things,” Trump declared on Monday. “I’m going to be chairman of it, and we’re going to ensure that it’s good and not ‘woke.’”

Politics and the arts have never existed in isolation, and the threat of boycotts often looms over organizations that risk alienating their donor base. Cultural institutions are wary of offending a President who seems intent on punishing dissent and disloyalty. Following Trump’s executive order to dismantle diversity programs in the federal government, even the Smithsonian—despite not being a federal agency—quickly abandoned its own initiatives, largely due to the fact that two-thirds of its employees are federal workers and Congress wields oversight and funding power.

In a similar vein, companies with government connections are taking precautions to avoid attracting negative attention from Trump. For instance, Booz Allen, a major government contractor, recently announced its withdrawal as a lead sponsor of this summer’s World Pride event, anticipated to attract up to 3 million LGBTQ attendees to the D.C. area.

The climate of apprehension is palpable. We are on the cusp of witnessing a Kennedy Center filled with programming that aligns with 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!” Such posts come as the abrupt removal of 18 board members has sent shockwaves through the D.C. arts community, which had anticipated another four years of relative indifference.

Nixon recognized that the true audience of the Kennedy Center extended beyond Washington D.C.; the world watched the performances on that campus. Despite facing public backlash, he chose not to attend, allowing artistic expression and free speech to flourish without fear of censorship. In contrast, Trump is positioning himself as a gatekeeper of American culture. The Kennedy Center is merely another platform for him, one he may curate according to his own whims, disregarding the broader implications for national identity.

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