From Jacques-Louis David to Butter Cows
The Evolving Revolutionary Impact of Art History and the Smithsonian’s Rebellion
I graduated college with a bachelor’s degree in English and Art History. I spent four years learning about the cultural effects and transformative power behind some of the greatest artists, paintings, exhibitions, and movements throughout human history.
I like to think that, if I gained nothing else, I at least gained the ability to recognize a powerful exhibition when I see one. And while I don’t have the ability to see it in person, I believe the latest exhibition at the Smithsonian American Art Museum (SAAM) is exactly that.
In March, the Trump administration announced a massive audit of the collections and exhibitions at the SAAM to ensure they aligned with the administration’s ideas of American exceptionalism. The SAAM, despite receiving federal funding, is not a government entity. The announcement of the investigation was a significant intrusion into the rights of an institution designed to operate independently and raised serious concerns about potential violations of free speech.
Despite being subjected to heavy scrutiny and pressure by the current administration, the Smithsonian responded subtly but powerfully with its newest exhibition since the announcement, State Fairs: Growing an American Craft.
I read an article by Art in America to get an overview of the exhibition, and it did not disappoint. In summary, the exhibition appears to appease the administration’s demands for a museum that uplifts American culture while simultaneously redefining what American culture means. Traditional state fair crafts and artworks are on display: a butter cow, quilts, and woven baskets decorate the space. But the stories they tell are very different from the 1950s “Golden Era” the administration seeks to glorify.
Native and immigrant artists, techniques and styles borrowed from other cultures, and stories of oppression and layered identities all combine to show that many of the most “traditional” aspects of American culture were born from complex—and often unsettling—roots. Even for those unable to see the exhibition in person, as I am, reading about the artists and works on display and engaging with the themes can have a profound impact.
This article and the exhibition gave me a feeling similar to learning about The Death of Marat by Jacques-Louis David in my art history lectures. If you’re unfamiliar, Jean-Paul Marat was a French revolutionary leader who was assassinated during the French Revolution in 1793. David memorialized his friend with an impactful painting of his death, which drew widespread acclaim and added fuel to the revolutionary fire.
The French Revolution sought a new political order—one that supported the common people and aimed to eliminate the power of the monarchy and the church. Paintings like The Death of Marat, along with many other works by David, fanned the revolutionary flames and contributed to the eventual abolition of the absolute monarchy and the implementation of major social reforms.
When The Death of Marat was projected on the screen in my dimly lit lecture hall and my professor recounted its significance, I fell in love with art history all over again. These monumental moments in art history are what inspire me and make me believe in the power of art.
Art history is being made today, right now, as we speak. But sometimes, it can be difficult to spot when so much of art news revolves around a banana taped to a wall or a balloon dog sculpture. While I believe all art has value, I also believe that not all art carries the same level of cultural impact.
In today’s world—where information moves at light speed, attention spans are short and difficult to capture, critical thinking is increasingly offloaded to AI, and art is highly conceptual—shockwaves like the one created by The Death of Marat seem few and far between.
While we may not be in the midst of a French Revolution (and thank goodness for that), there is still room for art to influence, inspire, and promote progress in the way David’s work once did.
I believe inspiration is shocking. It is encountering something you’ve never seen before and feeling challenged and motivated to act or think differently. So, what happens, in this age of information, when we are fed endless inspiration and expected to feel inspired over and over again? Some moments might stick, but much will be lost in the clutter.
It can become difficult to find the gems, to sift through the noise, and to discover the art that will become textbook art history and affect culture in a radical way. And I suppose there is truly no way to know what becomes history until it is written.
I only hope that others recognize, even if just for a brief moment, the power of the SAAM’s act of rebellion and feel a sense of the transformative effect and inherent revolutionary spirit of art that persists today.
Read the Art in America Article:
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