Et tu, 60 Minutes?

I understand that mergers are important and yet so is journalistic integrity. Or is it? Sure, let’s merge Paramount and Skydance into a $28 billion dollar entity. What else can we merge that will force award-winning, independent thinking journalists to bail out because independent thinking is pretty much against the law now?

There was a moment when I could not keep up with all that was happening in this administration’s first one hundred days. Then the assault on the arts began in full force. Books tossed from libraries—along with funding. NPR and PBS in the crosshairs. DEI initiatives, NEH and NEA now gutted. I won’t recount each example of this methodical, well-planned effort to homogenize and dehumanize the arts. Every one of you should be on top of this. It is really challenging for me in this moment to enjoy and celebrate art while having to respond to my writers—including myself—being repeatedly told “No comment.” Or “I have to check with my Board.” I understand. I have empathy and I ache for these organizations, of all sizes, who are afraid of being above the radar or who are already above the radar and therefore a target. We have to find a way to write about what’s happening for awareness sake because we are all responsible for the survival of the arts. All of us.

I’m prepping along with the rest of you. My pantry grows weekly. Yet how do you prep for Big Brother walking into your board meeting and slapping a cease-and-desist order on the table? Or yanking funding during your final dress rehearsal? The pleas to the public for money to replace lost grants are multiplying. I have devoted my career to the arts and to journalism because it has always brought me joy. Despite all the challenges I referenced in the March/April Publisher Letter, I keep going. We all have to keep each other going. It is our responsibility as humans, not just arts patrons.

I found this quote by the glorious banned-book author Toni Morrison: “All of that art-for-art’s-sake stuff is BS,” she declares. “What are these people talking about? Are you really telling me that Shakespeare and Aeschylus weren’t writing about kings? All good art is political! There is none that isn’t. And the ones that try hard not to be political are political by saying, ‘We love the status quo.’ We’ve just dirtied the word ‘politics,’ made it sound like it’s unpatriotic or something.” Morrison laughs derisively. “That all started in the period of state art, when you had the communists and fascists running around doing this poster stuff, and the reaction was ‘No, no, no; there’s only aesthetics.’ My point is that it has to be both: beautiful and political at the same time. I’m not interested in art that is not in the world. And it’s not just the narrative, it’s not just the story; it’s the language and the structure and what’s going on behind it…” I wish Morrison were here to help talk us down from the ledge. We must keep talking, raising our voices for art.

There is beautiful art in this issue. We celebrate museums, remind you of their beauty and validity, and warn you that they’re under assault. Renew your memberships. Open new ones. Show up! Kayla Coleman, executive director of the New England Museum Association is a guest writer this issue. We can’t roll over because we’re exhausted by the news. If you blink, another grant will be gone. Another arts program, another residency. Use this issue as a planning tool for summer travel. Hit every destination in the Berkshires section. Buy a piece of art wherever you go, however small. Buy banned books at your local bookstore with pride.

There is gorgeous writing this issue: Julianna Thibodeaux delves into art and aging; Paige Farrell shares the story of Steven Law and Donald Stroud of Decouvert Fine Art, a love letter blending art, healing and poetry. Chris Volpe delves into the extraordinary work of Tracey Emin in YCBA’s exhibition I Loved You Until the Morning. The cover means so much to me in this moment. I’m awestruck and in love and scared to death in the same moment. It’s political and so good and I want to talk about it. I want to live in a world where it’s ok to feel everything this image invokes.

Please keep talking and doing and promise yourself you’ll attend at least one arts event a week. Ask yourself what more you can do. The most important merger is the one where we all band together and protect the arts.

Rita A. Fucillo
Publisher

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