Can you still enjoy art that’s made by a terrible person?
When the pandemic first hit, people turned to art: shows were binge-watched, albums were played on repeat, and movies were marathoned. Art offers comfort and distraction from the surrounding world, but from another perspective it can also offer ethical dilemmas. It’s long been debated whether or not it’s immoral to enjoy art by bad people — meaning those that abuse their spouses, commit sexual assault, or who embrace a multitude of -isms. As “cancel culture” has entered into our modern lexicon (a phenomenon of withdrawing support from problematic public figures) transgressions behind closed doors are increasingly becoming a public affair, and people are questioning the role of their support in these matters. When it comes down to it, however, there is no black and white. Art is a personal connection between the viewer and the subject, and this can be influenced by the severity and nature of the crime as well as if the artist is being financially supported by the art in question.
Anyone who consumes media will inevitably come across this dilemma. It could be while scrolling through social media and seeing posts supporting the #MeToo hashtag — a movement that gained traction in 2017 after sexual assault allegations were made against film producer Harvey Weinstein. Or you could be uncomfortable listening to Chris Brown’s rap after learning about his violent assault of Rihanna. And don’t forget the classics of high art like Richard Wagner, a famous composer who’s well known for holding antisemitic sentiments.
Perhaps one of the most infamous examples is Hitler and his remaining work. Some ponder what might have happened if he hadn’t been rejected (twice, I might add) from the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna, but these ruminations are fruitless. It’s fictitious to consider a narrative where Hitler was a down-on-his-luck chap who was rejected from art school so he reluctantly turned to dictatorship. Most people don’t commit genocide after receiving rejection letters, so really it’s more indicative that he was an inherently terrible man who was already harboring antisemitic views even as a struggling artist. There’s no way to know if acceptance into art school would have made him a different, better person.
As for Hitler’s art itself, I find it difficult to support the appreciation of his work in any capacity, especially since an art critic at the time called his pieces “utterly devoid of rhythm, colour, feeling, or spiritual imagination.” His paintings are idyllic and pleasant to look at, but by no means are masterpieces that can overpower his crimes against humanity. In other words, Hitler was a mediocre artist. It would make more sense to allow his work to fade into oblivion and not garner further attention, much like how his place of death is now a parking lot — with an information plaque as the only historical acknowledgement. There will always be a morbid fascination with the art created by a monster, but we can acknowledge it without feeding into it.
Now, of course, not every bad person who makes art is on the same level as Hitler, and the severity and nature of the offence can heavily influence how the art is perceived. There are instances where it can be easier to distance the art from the artist. But, if the artist’s transgressions are heavily woven into their art, it can distract from and taint the experience for others. An example is GRLwood, a punk band who recently disbanded due to rape allegations by one band member against the other. Personally, it was difficult to listen to their music after the allegations came to light because their music was subversive and purposely critiqued rape culture. It now feels hypocritical. If the art is far removed from any of a problematic artist’s offences, it can be easier to focus on the art for what it is rather than who made it.
Another aspect to consider is that art is not always just cultural or political — it can be an artist’s financial livelihood as well. It’s worth calling into question whether financially supporting problematic artists is the right thing to do. In cases where the artist’s offences are personally upsetting to the viewer, it makes perfect sense to withhold any support or visibility for their work. If supporting the artist has the potential to result in other victims, such as a film director continuing to have access to talent they’re abusing, it also makes sense to boycott their ability to make films.
Arguably, there are ways to get around this issue. (Note that the decision to pirate — meaning to illegally access media without paying — opens a whole other can of worms regarding morality, so I can’t really recommend it.) You could use online galleries to view art instead of buying it or supporting an exhibit, listen to music on YouTube rather than streaming it through Spotify, which pays royalties, watch YouTube videos with AdBlock on, avoid buying merchandise, or criticize an artist’s work on your digital platforms. Even if you choose to engage with someone’s art, you can still decide to be vocal about its faults or create a dialogue about a venue’s decision to feature them.
At the end of the day, when it comes to good art by bad people, you should seriously consider your personal stance on the subject and make the best decisions necessary for you individually — your well-being and sense of integrity should be a priority. If it doesn’t upset you to watch a movie or listen to music by an unsavory character, it still can’t hurt to empathize with why someone might not want to. It’s your prerogative to engage with art as you see fit, but at the same time it’s wise to become aware of what your money is supporting.
In the end, it’s important to note that one can both engage with works by problematic people and also not support their actions. What’s important to note is how one does it, though. Is the artist’s work being celebrated publicly? Are the actions of the abuser being minimized by critics? It’s hard to argue that every piece of work by a questionable person should be cleansed from the public conscience, and more realistic to strive toward critically thinking about how we’re engaging with it.
(Celina Koops/The Cascade)
Chandy is a biology major/chemistry minor who's been a staff writer, Arts editor, and Managing Editor at The Cascade. She began writing in elementary school when she produced Tamagotchi fanfiction to show her peers at school -- she now lives in fear that this may have been her creative peak.
