Wednesday, Nov. 6, 9:25 a.m. Leakin Hall, Peabody Institute. A studio that had once been filled with dynamic pulses of expectant energy had now been reduced to a foreboding hush. I caught myself avoiding the despondent stares of my peers as I walked apprehensively to my spot. Drafts of how I would one day illustrate where I was when “it” happened flooded my head. Within these floods, I attempted to search for a polished response to indicate my dissidence, but everything felt too forced. In the end, I had abandoned my grand gesture of outrage and took a seat among the mass of wary bodies.
Peabody responded to the results of the election exactly how you would imagine us to. The events that took place in my dance class on that Wednesday morning would’ve absolutely been broadcast on Fox News with some sort of caption referencing liberals, snowflakes and tears. Scenes of sobs and embraces ensued as our professors delivered us their words of assurance that they came armed with.
Flash-forward to a week later, I’m instructed that I will be collaboratively choreographing a self-reflective dance piece about how our lived experiences and sociopolitical factors shape our social realities in the aftermath of the election. Upon hearing this, I became filled with unease. I have never choreographed a piece that explicitly political before, so why am I starting now? Why is activism expected out of artists?
Since the moment I started training in dance pre-professionally, I was told that being an activist is inherent to being an artist. Historically, art has been at the forefront of change, amplifying experiences and engaging communities. Art is sometimes truly the only way to start a conversation with hostile communities that hold “traditional” values. The work can be passed off as a legitimate expression of art rather than a political statement. Audiences are encouraged to envision alternative futures without the constraints of existing limitations; physical protests are oftentimes too visible for those unreceptive to change.
We understand the key role that artists have to play towards change, yet, it is rare you’ll ever hear an artist refer to themself as an activist. Art at its base level is creative expression. So-called “artivists” feel external pressure to adhere to social agendas at the expense of their creative freedom. This pressure can potentially lead to superficial activism. Art that attempts to garner political approval is unlikely to be as impactful as art or politics alone. If activism is performed for social capital or because it is “right,” is it truly activism? Co-opting social movements for personal gain is never ethical, and art is not exempt from this rule.
At its essence, art interacts with human nature in a way that cannot be policed by social and political agendas. Agendas tend to oversimplify unsettled issues for practicality’s sake, and art defies practicalities by placing special emphasis on expression, emotion and the extraordinary over functionality or efficiency. Life demands tangible results and as a challenge to these structures, art thrives in the abstraction and ambiguity between the structures that govern everyday existence. For this reason, art can be viewed as political because as it mirrors life — it catches glimpses of political implications in its background.
However, art alone doesn’t create change but rather communicates unrest, which is the first step towards measurable change. Projecting activism onto artists is shifting the responsibilities belonging to individuals and institutions to engage in activism themselves. It’s far too easy to rely on artists to lead the change, and it furthers the narrative that activism is the responsibility of others and not a collective effort.
It is our responsibility as consumers of art to live as a form of defiance. The most radical action we can take is to love and live, even when we are afraid. The art will follow soon thereafter. Engage in community, give what you can and ask for what you need. Preserve knowledge and learn from your elders. Read everything that you can; watch the watchmen. Learn from the ambiguity of art; you don’t have to organize all of your efforts as a response — just live.
Live beautifully, live heinously. Live in exhilaration, live in stagnancy. Just live. Living is an act of resistance that defies forces that aim to diminish our hope and existence. Existing resists erasure.
So I’ll complete my final, but my work is far from done.
Angelina Miller is a sophomore from Ellington, Conn. majoring in Dance at the Peabody Institute.
