Once in a while …
Once in a while, strange things happen on the world stage that seem to affect us all. But instead of debating whether we should agree or disagree with the majority, I feel drawn to reflect on how art and politics are connected—like siblings who might not get along yet remain bound by something fundamental. During my time at art school in the UK, we were in the thick of the Brexit whirlwind. It was nearly impossible to keep politics out of my art, because if art is a mirror to our world, whether it reflects the internal or the external, politics is part of that constellation.
This link between art and politics is a constant—a star visible across continents and centuries, especially during times of political turmoil or revolution. The tension and connection between art and politics have fueled everything from grand public statements to quiet acts of resistance. Even if it might not always seem political, art that grapples with social issues surrounds us daily. Take street art, for example: it can slip by unnoticed in its familiarity, yet it is often a potent voice in public discourse. In the late 20th century, marginalized Black and Latino communities in New York turned to street art to express struggles otherwise overlooked. Alongside the rise of hip-hop, street art brought grassroots activism to public spaces, pushing social justice to the forefront of public consciousness. Even today, street art continues to highlight issues of inequality, oppression, and violence, creating a powerful platform for voices often left out of mainstream media. Its accessibility makes it unique and democratic—open to all, regardless of socioeconomic status.
Escif, 2015, Sweden
If street art represents grassroots expression, perhaps its "big brother" is Mexican Muralism. After the Mexican Revolution, the government commissioned the country’s leading artists to paint public murals, aiming to educate the largely illiterate population about Mexico’s history, indigenous culture, political identity, and aspirations for progress. These massive, striking murals were not just art; they were an educational tool, an act of political engagement, and a declaration of identity. Muralists like Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and David Alfaro Siqueiros transformed public spaces into canvases that told the stories of struggle and resilience. The democratization of art through murals represented a profound shift in how society interacted with art, marking a new era in public engagement. Ironically, while Mexican murals have been celebrated as fine art, graffiti and street art often remain relegated to the fringes of the art world, even when they hold similarly powerful messages.
Diega Rivera, Secretaría de Educación Pública
In Zurich, another politically charged art movement emerged—Dada. You may have heard of it or even had a coffee at Cabaret Voltaire, where Dada took root in response to the horrors of the First World War. Dada’s absurdist style was a reaction to the absurdity of the war itself. Hannah Höch, one of Dada’s notable artists, used collage—a medium that lends itself to creating surreal juxtapositions—to critique the chaos and senselessness of the time. Absurdity became Dada's language, whether through performance, theater, or collage, challenging the idea of art itself. Dadaists questioned whether art had a place in a world so brutalized, so wrecked by conflict. Perhaps the answer varies: some argue that art is never more essential than in times of turmoil, while others insist that when everything is broken, art hardly matters. It's a tension familiar to anyone who creates—you can feel determined one moment, yet overwhelmed and paralyzed the next.
Cabaret Voltaire, Zurich
Art as resistance is more than just a historical phenomenon; it remains a powerful, often dangerous choice today. Across the Middle East, female artists risk their safety to critique the gender-based restrictions that shape their lives. These artists challenge political and societal norms, often in quiet yet powerful ways, using their art as a form of defiance. For them, the danger of staying silent outweighs the risks of speaking out. Their work illustrates art's potential to defy, educate, and inspire, sometimes at a very high cost. Political art can democratize by opening dialogue, it can educate by illuminating hidden stories, it can resist by pushing back against oppression, and it can question by confronting deeply held beliefs.
Nour Elbasuni, The Alchemists, 2023
These examples across history show that the relationship between art and politics isn’t a one-dimensional story—it’s as layered as history itself. Art holds space for different roles and responses. And while I may not always know what I intend to achieve when I pick up a paintbrush, the beauty of art is that it’s not about reaching a final destination; it’s always a journey.