Woke Art Labeled "Aesthetically Terrifying"

 

[I don’t often post about politics on Rick On Theater, with the exception of my advocacy for freedom of speech and expression, my support for funding the arts, and my belief in the importance of including the arts in the curricula of our elementary and secondary schools and our colleges and universities.  But now and then, something comes to my attention that offends my commitment to those positions. 

[This occurred just this week, as reported in the articles I’m reposting below.  I’m pretty sure readers will see what’s exercised me in this case.

[There are two grounds on which these reports, both covering the same event, have raised my hackles.  The first, I think is obvious in the context of my introductory comments above.  This is related to the suppression of the freedom of expression in the context of art.  I’ll circle back to this in a bit.

[The second reason this particular incident has gotten to me is probably less obvious to those who haven’t read my posts on ROT that recount my teen years when my father was a Foreign Service Officer with the U.S. Information Agency in the Federal Republic of Germany (1962-67).

[USIA wasn’t very well known at home, so a little explanation is necessary.  Established in 1953 by President Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; 34th President of the United States: 1953-61), USIA was the agency responsible for what was called “public diplomacy” (read “cultural propaganda”). 

[The agency brought art and cultural events, lectures, and political and historical information about the United States to countries all over the globe through libraries and other facilities and tours by performers and speakers.  The mission was to show the U.S. in the best possible light and emphasize our founding principles and it was part of my dad’s job to display the breadth of America’s artistic achievements—visual art, music, theater, and dance in all their forms—to the Germans in his area of responsibility. 

[Though the new Art in Embassies wasn’t a program of USIA, it was nevertheless a project that engaged my dad (who had been active with a prominent art gallery in Washington, D.C., in the years just before he arrived in Germany).

[Now, that connection to my feelings about freedom of expression. 

[I’ve said numerous times on this blog that I’m pretty much a First Amendment absolutist.  There are a few exceptions to my belief in total adherence to the principle of free speech and free expression—incitement to violence, slander or libel, falsely shouting fire in a crowded theater, true national security—but not liking someone’s words, having one’s feelings hurt, or politically opposing what someone says is not among these exceptions.

[Now, I also have to acknowledge that the person or agency that owns the hall, so to speak, has some right to regulate what’s said in it.  It’s different for a public space, and that covers embassies and consulates.  But it’s obvious, I think, that the government has some legitimate entitlement to regulate what is said or displayed in its facilities.  Obscenity or vulgarity probably would fall into this category—but not political opposition, no matter what label one puts on it.

[And that’s what woke is. 

[What woke actually means in 2026 is probably irrelevant in this discussion.  The word has many connotations, depending on who’s using it, who’s hearing it, and what the topic under discussion is, but fundamentally it means being aware of and actively attentive to issues of racial, gender, and social justice.

[When used pejoratively by political conservatives, woke generally functions as a catch-all term criticizing progressive or left-wing policies, culture, and ideology.  And that’s where the problem dealt with here arises.

[Basically, it’s a label for anything the MAGA people don’t like.  That pretty much is the definition of “political opposition.”  And that’s exactly what our democratic government is not supposed to suppress.  Even if you label the ideas socialism—or, worse, communism—Americans are supposed to be allowed to speak them.

[Or draw them, sculpt them, or project them.  The First Amendment declares so.  It’s a founding principle of our Democracy.  Our powerful government isn’t supposed to erase, obliterate, cover up, suppress, censor, or delete what it doesn’t like or opposes.  The Constitution says not.  That’s the 237-year-old document whose semiquincentennial is coming up next.]

“BIG PICTURE ON POLITICS OF ‘WOKE’”
by Jason Farago 

[The report on the Trump State Department’s removal of a painting from the walls of the U.S. Embassy in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, was published in the New York Times on 29 August 2026 in Section C (“Arts”).  It was posted as “When Kehinde Wiley’s Painting Was Removed, It Wasn’t About Art” on the paper’s website on 27 August 2026.]

During the Cold War [1947-91], the State Department maintained a robust program of American cultural diplomacy, sending the New York Philharmonic to the Soviet Union and Duke Ellington’s orchestra to the Middle East. There is not much left of this policy, but the program [launched officially by President John F. Kennedy (1917-63); 35th President of the United States: 1961-63) in 1963; still operational], established during the Kennedy administration, manages a collection of paintings, sculptures and photographs and helps organize art displays in 190-odd embassies and consulates abroad. It is led by Erin Scavino [b. 1978; attorney, former model, reality show contestant, and political activist; Director of Art in Embassies: 2025-present], a contestant fired in Week 9 of Season 3 [2005] of “The Apprentice.” [The Apprentice ran on NBC from 2004 to 2017; Donald Trump (b. 1946; politician, media personality, and businessman; 45th President of the United States: 2017-21 and 47th President of the United States: 2025-present) was co-producer and host from 2003 to 2015.]

This month, at the American embassy in the Dominican Republic, one painting from the program was taken down with the help of a cherry picker [see following article]. It was made by the artist Kehinde Wiley [b. 1977], who painted the official presidential portrait of Barack Obama [2018; National Portrait Gallery], but who shares with President Trump a taste for gilded ornament. Scavino explained in a podcast interview that her office intervened to remove the picture.

“It was very woke,” Scavino explained. “It was by the gentleman who did Obama’s portrait. And it was aesthetically terrifying.”

Strong words for a group portrait of four fully dressed, largely expressionless sitters in front of a background adorned with flowers. But aesthetic terror is a good place to start. Whether you find the work terrifying or otherwise, the meaning of this removal lies in psychology, rather than in painting.

[A section of this article that’s included in the online edition but not included in the print version is as follows:

The removed painting is called “Young Artists After Siamesas 1960” [2015], and the sitters are four Dominican artists that Mr. Wiley met in the Caribbean country, floating as usual against a highly decorative background.

Two women are standing; they look out from the picture with authority, and their skin has a waxen photorealism.

Two men are sitting; one wears a T-shirt with the logo of an evangelical children’s camp.

Against the teal background is a repeated pattern of sunflowers, peonies and tulips, which is as flat as wallpaper in most areas . . .

[I touch on “photorealism” in visual art in my post “Hyperreal Theater” (16 January 2021).]

For 25 years, Wiley has painted in this consistent format: young figures, mostly but not always Black, posed flatly in positions nodding to western European history painting (with large portions churned out by studio assistants in China and elsewhere). This was enough for a lot of people before November 2016. As the critic Rachel Hunter Himes persuasively argued last year, Wiley’s art became “a kind of court style for the Obama era,” and his one-by-one insertions of Black sitters in royal or imperial frames, not to mention his gift for business and taste for luxury, perfectly fulfilled that era’s individualist mandate.

Wiley’s rise from queer downtown New York to the State Department, Himes went on, “dovetailed with the emergence of a political culture that saw the presence of black faces in the halls of power as inherently progressive and black economic advancement under capitalism as anti-racist.”

Wiley’s formulaic glorifications were emblematic of the lapsed age now called “Woke 1,” though I do not think that Scavino — the wife of Dan Scavino [b. 1976], the president’s deputy chief of staff — is objecting on quite those grounds. But that is the bitter irony here: If she could look past the Black president whose administration commissioned the painting (and accept the Black models in the picture, too), Ms. Scavino might see that Wiley’s “aesthetically terrifying” painting could hang more naturally in the current Oval Office or the future White House ballroom.

The artist and the commander in chief have quite a bit in common, after all. Both love ostentation, glitter and flamboyance, and Wiley’s use of ornate, even vulgar, gold frames jibes rather well with Trump’s Mar-a-Lagofication of the West Wing. Both employ a populist rhetoric that in fact serves their own celebrity, access to elite institutions and personal enrichment.

Wiley and the president have also both faced multiple accusations of sexual misconduct; both have denied wrongdoing and claimed their accusers are motivated by money and fame. (Trump was found liable in federal court for sexual abuse in 2023; Wiley has not been found liable for any sexual assault, but at least three museums, in Florida, Minnesota, and Nebraska, decided not to go ahead with exhibitions of the artist after the accusations emerged.)

Look: There’s nothing inherently sinister about swapping the art in an official building. Administrations come and go, their ambassadors arrive in Canberra or Copenhagen, and they redecorate. No doubt when Obama and Joe Biden were in office, their foreign plenipotentiaries unhooked a few pictures by their Bush- or Trump-appointed predecessors and shipped them back to Foggy Bottom.

What is different with this administration, in art as in life, is the vengeance. Before, a difference in cultural politics would play out with some Bubble Wrap and spackling paste. Under this administration, culture war is waged publicly, optimized for the short-form vertical video. Our ambassador in the Dominican Republic decided to showcase the removal of Wiley’s picture with Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” playing in the background and punctuated the caption with an American flag emoji.

It is not enough to dislike Wiley’s painting; one must shame Wiley the painter. He is the second of the Obama portraitists to come under direct fire from the Trump administration; Amy Sherald [b. 1973], who painted Michelle Obama [2018; National Portrait Gallery], canceled her own exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington [Amy Sherald: American Sublime was scheduled from 19 September 2025-22 February 2026; Sherald canceled it on 24 July 2025] rather than accede to demands to censor (or “contextualize”) a supposedly objectionable work [Trans Forming Liberty (2024); depiction of a Black transgender woman as the Statue of Liberty]. In both cases, the matter at hand is not the painters’ quality or even their political stances, but the need — the pleasure — of functionaries as low down on the organization chart as the Santo Domingo political division to demonstrate loyalty to the president through carnivalesque acts of censorship and humiliation.

But what if your enemy resembles you in ways you cannot admit? That is the real aesthetic terror that this Obamaist kitsch triggers in the halls of the administration: that what you say you want to eradicate (if you ever looked at it at all) is the equal and opposite thing that defines you.

[Jason Farago, a critic at large for the New York Times, writes about art and culture in the U.S. and abroad.  He began writing for the Times in 2015, reviewing exhibitions and reporting features across the United States and in more than a dozen foreign countries.

[Previously, Farago wrote for The Guardian, and was a regular contributor to The New Yorker, the BBC, NPR, the New York Review of Books and Artforum.  He edited a global culture magazine called Even, whose four-year run is collected in the anthology “Out of Practice.”

[In 2017, Farago was named one of the inaugural laureates of the Rabkin Prize for arts writing.  In 2022, he was awarded one of the inaugural Silvers-Dudley Prizes for criticism and journalism, and in 2023 he was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for criticism.]

*  *  *  *
“OFFICIALS CALL PAINTING ‘WOKE’ AND WANT TO GET RID OF IT”
by Zachary Small 

[Just before the publication of the above article, the report below ran in the New York Times of 26 August 2026 (Section C: “Arts”).  It was also posted on the website as “Trump Officials Propose Sale of ‘Woke’ Painting by Kehinde Wiley” on 24 August 2026.]

The State Department wants to sell a painting by the celebrated artist Kehinde Wiley that the director of its Art in Embassies program called “very woke” and “aesthetically terrifying.” It was removed from the U.S. Embassy in the Dominican Republic last week.

The painting by Wiley, who rose to fame after being selected to create President Barack Obama’s official portrait, features four Dominican models against a floral backdrop. It was commissioned by the federal government in 2013 and paid for with taxpayer dollars.

State Department officials removed the painting from the embassy last week, after first hiding it behind a tarp designed with an image of the American flag.

Erin Scavino, the director of Art in Embassies, criticized Wiley’s painting in a recent podcast interview and pointed out the artist’s connection to Obama. Leah Campos [b. 1977; former intelligence officer serving in the Central Intelligence Agency, 2001-12], the U.S. ambassador to the Dominican Republic [2025-present], celebrated its removal on social media with a video playing the rock anthem “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” writing that the painting was an example of “globalist and woke ideologies.”

Neither elaborated on what she found objectionable.

In a statement on Monday about the removal of the painting, a State Department spokeswoman did not directly address the artwork. The statement instead criticized comments Wiley had made in 2023 about his “Judith and Holofernes” painting, which he described as “a play on the ‘kill whitey’ thing.” It also cited accusations of sexual assault that Wiley has denied.

[Judith and Holofernes (2012) is Wiley’s modern take on a 17th-century painting (Judith and the Head of Holofernes, 1608) by Giovanni Baglione (Italian; 1566-1643). The biblical story of the beheading of Holofernes by Judith (Book of Judith, Chapter 13, verses 1-10) has been depicted in paintings and sculptures throughout history.]

“The work of an individual with such violent and racist words and depictions has no place in the America First State Department,” the spokeswoman said.

The statement said the State Department is determining whether it can legally sell the painting of Dominicans, which is titled “Young Artists After Siamesas 1960.”

“If that is feasible,” the spokeswoman said, “it would be the goal of Art in Embassies to proudly do so.”

A smaller painting by the artist sold at a Phillips auction in 2024 for nearly $845,000. Wiley and his gallerist, Sean Kelly, did not respond to requests for comment.

Virginia Shore, who commissioned the Wiley painting, established many of the embassy art collections as director of acquisitions and chief curator for the Art in Embassies program between 2000 and 2017. She described the work as nonpartisan and said there was no precedent for selling embassy artworks.

“Calling this woke is difficult for me to understand,” she said. “This is a program validated and financially backed under Bush. There is a science of building trust and empathy across borders.”

Wiley received an award from the State Department in 2015 [Department of State Medal of Arts by Secretary of State John Kerry (b. 1943; 68th U. S. Secretary of State: 2013-17)] because of his contributions to cultural diplomacy. He often takes inspiration from historic paintings, asking contemporary Black models to pose inside his version of the compositions. For “Young Artists After Siamesas 1960,” he spent two years studying paintings by the Dominican artists Celeste Woss y Gil [1890-1985] and Gilberto Hernández Ortega [1923-79; renowned Dominican modern artist on whose poses and composition in the 1960 painting Siamesas Wiley based this work], working with art students in the country to finish the scene.

The artwork’s removal was the latest attempt to politicize the State Department’s art program, which became part of the government during the Kennedy administration in 1963 to foster cultural diplomacy. The program was strengthened in 1999 under the Secure Embassy Construction and Counterterrorism Act, which led to embassies developing their own permanent art collections.

This year, Scavino claimed to have gotten an ambassador in Bucharest, Romania, fired over “satanic baby art,” though the diplomat’s departure was reported as a planned retirement. She also selected a friend with no curatorial experience [Jenni Parido, a woman whose most recent job was owning a luxury pet food store in Tampa, Florida] to serve as the commissioner of the U.S. Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, bypassing normal procedures. In July, Scavino organized an exhibition in Washington that aimed to “Make Art Great Again” with nearly 70 versions of the American flag on display.

In a statement about the removed Wiley painting, Campos, the U.S. ambassador, said, “It is my intention that everything we project from U.S. Embassy Santo Domingo, including the art and décor, reflect the beauty, strength and commitment to liberty of the United States of America and its people.”

Online, she had a stronger perspective: “Under the Trump administration and my leadership, we are leaving behind globalist, ‘woke’ ideologies to embrace, instead, American patriotism and the beauty of our great country.”

She ended the sentence with an emoji of the American flag.

[Zachary Small is a New York Times reporter writing about the art world’s relationship to money, politics, and technology.  He started contributing to the Times in 2019 and was hired in 2023.

[Small has worked as a journalist for nearly a decade, after previously working in museums and theaters.  He spent years writing criticism for art publications until becoming an investigative reporter on stories about sexual misconduct, fraud, forgeries, and violence in cultural institutions.

[His first book, Token Supremacy (Alfred A. Knopf, 2024), details the frenzied collision of art and cryptocurrency.]