Can art be the voice of change?
I first became a visual artist out of a basic need to express myself, to depict something that I apparently couldn’t put into words. In the art world, this urge to create is called urgency. On the one hand, you have the urgency to create something, and on the other hand, it is the critics and viewers that call something urgent when they see it. In both cases, it springs from individuality and independence. Even without financial incentive or the prospect of success, something will be created because, according to the creator, it needs to be said.
What is influence and how to use it. I won’t suggest that my work is urgent; it is, first and foremost, urgent for me. Conceiving and producing a work of art has a cleansing and calming effect on me. I can literally express something, and it gives me a sense of direction, clarity, and a clear self-awareness. By self-awareness, I mean: I know that I am sending a message out into the world and I am responsible for its impact. Without exaggerating my importance or overestimating my influence on the world, I know deep down that every expression is or can be influential. Where it says influence, you can also read inspiration. And that brings me to my main point.
Each system needs believers. I was born in 1970 and grew up during the Cold War, followed by a period of optimism and opportunity in the spirit of solidarity, and accountability for the past*. Somewhere along the way, with the rise of internet, smartphones, social media, and now AI, I feel like a door has gradually been opened to unbridled capitalism and consumerism. The word “progress” became a magic word for believers in this system, but a crowbar for those reluctant to embrace it. The underlying message: ‘Go with the flow of progress or fade into obscurity, stuck in a dusty past.’
*This is viewed through my Western lens; I am aware that there are many other less cheerful stories about this same period.
Happy consumer kills democracy. The difference between art with a capital A and art with a minor a was slowly but surely erased, making way for art for the masses in a very democratic fashion. Likes and shares determine visibility and popularity. Algorithms largely dictate how high your star rises. Scandals, outrage, violence, and sex are big algorithmic climbers, and modesty gets you nowhere.
Authenticity is succumbing to commercialism, and with that, true meaning has been declared outlawed, and intrinsic values have gone into free fall.
It turns out that we are all trapped in a social web spun by a small circle somewhere in Silicon Valley. A small circle of nerds that has grown into a group of tech billionaires with an unabashed appetite for power. Suddenly, that progressiveness turns out to be very conservative. Suddenly, those free entrepreneurs turned out to be right-wing autocrats with all this influence at their disposal…and then what?
How can you be an artist and not reflect the time. What can I do, what should I do? I take these thoughts to bed with me and rise with them again in the morning.
“How can you be an artist and not reflect the times” is a quote from the late Nina Simone, and I strongly agree with her. Being an artist, would you want to be meaningless and on a leash of commerce, while your unique individuality is stolen for the sake of greater sales? Or would you like to use your free and untamed voice?
Imagine if a majority of artists in this world expressed themselves, dared to take risks, and refused to be constrained by algorithmic values and commercial interests. Imagine them using their platform and stage to break the fascist hegemony that is emerging. What would happen then? We must realize that everything is influence, including meaninglessness and malice. The good news is that no one has a monopoly on influence.
In this day and age, silence is equivalent to consent, validation, and enabling.
Progress or deterioration? Hannah Arendt (author of ‘The Banality of Evil’) argues that humanity goes off the rails as soon as people stop ‘acting’ out of fear of totalitarian power or out of a desire to find quick solutions to social problems. In this context, indifference is a greater danger than violence.
Human Rights Watch states that 72% of the world is now under autocratic rule (only 28% is still democratic). We see that fascism and intolerance are gradually gaining a foothold in people’s minds and hearts, old-fashioned notions about male-female relationships and race are making a comeback, and an aggressive form of nihilism and hedonism is rampant.
The clock is turned back, or rather, it is being turned forwards, full speed into a dystopian world where big tech billionaires, other billionaires and autocratic leaders collaborate to secure a better life for themselves at the expense of us all.
This fascism taunts us openly, does not conceal itself, does not invent excuses because it despises us and the rule of law, and disguises itself as entertainment, convenience, and progress. That is what makes it so dangerous and difficult to stop. A counter-voice must be organized, a constant protest!
Turn the tide, use it or lose it. Artists and performers are in the best position to voice dissent. But really, anyone with a platform, including athletes, could speak out and force change.
In addition, artists and performers have qualities that cannot be sold and for which fascist and totalitarian systems are no match. These qualities are imagination, fantasy, humor, love, and independence. We should be extremely cautious about handing over our imagination or leaving it to artificial intelligence; instead, we should cherish and propagate it as if our lives depend on it.
Once we give it away, it wil be lost and we will be lost. There is no refund.
If everyone with a platform or a podium speaks out, a silent majority will follow. Fans, followers, and the public will gradually join in. That’s how influence works.
Use your influence to reclaim what was always ours, the right to be.
Use your influence to turn the tide; change is possible.
Use it or lose it.
Want to respond mail me @maoatelier007@gmail.com
