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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 yet celebratory atmosphere, highlighted by the premiere of Leonard Bernstein’s groundbreaking work, Mass. This piece was commissioned by the widow of John F. Kennedy, the nation’s first Catholic President. However, one notable absence that day was that of President Richard Nixon.

Nixon’s absence was no accident. The White House had meticulously reviewed Bernstein’s FBI file, which totaled over 800 pages, later obtained by The New Yorker‘s classical music critic Alex Ross through a Freedom of Information Act request in 2009. Officials expressed concerns that Bernstein’s new composition would reflect his well-documented opposition to the Vietnam War. To avoid an awkward evening, Nixon opted for a National Symphony Orchestra event instead, intentionally distancing himself from Bernstein, whom he had previously disparaged as a “son of a bitch.” Nixon’s attitude towards the arts was cautious; he recognized their cultural significance but was unwilling to engage with them openly.

Fast forward to fifty years later, and Donald Trump seems to have adopted a similar approach during his first presidential term, choosing to keep his distance from the Kennedy Center. This choice stemmed from the annual Kennedy Center Honors ceremony, where a select group of artists are celebrated for their cultural contributions. Typically, the President and First Lady attend this prestigious event and host the honorees at the White House. However, during Trump’s inaugural year, three honorees threatened to boycott the ceremony rather than share the stage with him. Faced with a politically sensitive situation, Trump opted out of the ceremony for the rest of his term, enabling figures like Norman Lear and Lin-Manuel Miranda to participate without having to engage with him directly. This was a Nixon-esque diplomatic maneuver, as Trump never visited the nation’s foremost venue for the performing arts.

Now, however, Trump is taking a more proactive role. Recently, he dismissed board members appointed by Joe Biden and declared himself the chairman of the governing body, placing loyalist Richard Grenell in the interim leadership position. By Wednesday, it appeared that Trump had solidified his control over the institution, with a board entirely comprised of his appointees unanimously voting him in as chairman, thereby granting him substantial influence over artistic decisions on a national level.

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

The immediate repercussions of Trump’s takeover were apparent, with Deborah F. Rutter, the long-serving president, being ousted and musician Ben Folds resigning from his position as an artistic advisor to the National Symphony Orchestra, based at the Kennedy Center.

Trump’s influence is likely to be most evident during the Kennedy Center Honors. Although the honorees are typically chosen by the board and previous awardees, it’s difficult to imagine recent recipients like Oprah Winfrey and George Clooney accepting such accolades with Trump’s shadow looming over them. Over the next four years, the Kennedy Center Honors may end up celebrating only those artists willing to align themselves with Trump.

A similar shift may occur with another Kennedy Center tradition—the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor—which is usually decided by a somewhat opaque group of insiders. This esteemed award has recognized talents like Dave Chappelle, Jon Stewart, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus in recent years. Conan O’Brien, this year’s honoree, has largely maintained a nonpartisan stance but did support Biden in 2020.

While it may seem trivial for notable figures to miss out on awards, the artistic decisions made at the Kennedy Center have the potential to resonate throughout Hollywood and beyond. The center hosts roughly 2,200 events each year and attracts around 2 million visitors, making its programming a subtle yet powerful influencer on national identity. The Secretary of State’s involvement in board meetings underscores the significance of the Kennedy Center in cultural diplomacy, with the Honors often serving as a platform for the State Department’s weekend celebrations.

On the surface, Trump claims his takeover is a response to recent Kennedy Center events featuring drag queens. However, beneath the surface lies a desire to exert influence over 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 chairman of it, and we’re going to ensure that it’s good and not ‘woke.’”

The intersection of politics and the arts has always been fraught with tension, as the threat of boycotts looms large over organizations that risk alienating their donor base. Cultural institutions are cautious about offending a President who appears intent on punishing dissent and disloyalty. Following Trump’s executive order to dismantle diversity programs in the federal government, even the Smithsonian—though not a federal agency—quickly retracted its own initiatives due to the fact that two-thirds of its staff are federal employees, subject to Congressional oversight and funding.

Similarly, companies with government ties are taking steps to avoid drawing Trump’s ire. For instance, Booz Allen, a significant government contractor, recently announced it would withdraw as a lead sponsor of this summer’s World Pride event, which is expected to attract up to 3 million LGBTQ attendees to the D.C. area.

The atmosphere of unease is palpable. We are on the verge of a Kennedy Center that embraces programming reflective of 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!” These posts follow the sudden dismissal of 18 board members, which has reverberated through the D.C. arts community, which had anticipated another four years of relative indifference.

Nixon understood that the Kennedy Center’s audience extended far beyond Washington D.C.; the world was watching the performances held there. Despite facing public backlash, he opted not to attend, allowing artistic expression and free speech to thrive without fear of censorship. In contrast, Trump is positioning himself as a curator of American culture. For him, the Kennedy Center represents yet another stage to shape according to his own whims, overlooking the broader implications for national identity.

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