Art and Politics as an ideological tool in exhibitions
History does not stop in Spain. During the regime of Francisco Franco, many artistic expressions were carefully filtered. Anything that did not align with the official narrative simply had no place in the public sphere.
But if there is a case where art was systematically controlled, it is that of Adolf Hitler during World War II. In the Third Reich, art was used as a tool of propaganda.
Entire movements were labeled “degenerate,” and thousands of works were removed, stored, or destroyed. At the same time, a specific aesthetic was promoted—one that emphasized strength, purity, and order.
In this context, Art and Politics ceases to be a curatorial discussion and becomes a mechanism of cultural control.
The question that arises is unsettling: if we only see what power allows, to what extent is our perception of art truly free?
Contemporary censorship: more subtle, just as present
One might think these practices belong to the past. However, today censorship takes on more subtle, almost bureaucratic forms—what we often refer to as politically correct language.
As a visual artist, it is common to encounter open calls that clearly specify which themes will not be accepted. In many exhibitions sponsored by local governments, city councils, or public institutions, nudity—even in its most subtle form—is automatically excluded.
A photographer once told me that an image of a Yanomami Indigenous girl had to be reworked because she was partially nude, and the organizers would not accept it.
The same happens with works addressing contemporary geopolitical conflicts. Topics related to current wars or explicit positions are often rejected to avoid tension or controversy.
Here, censorship is not always explicit. Sometimes it appears as “responsible curation.” Other times, as a way to avoid collective discomfort.
And yet, the result is the same: there are works that never get to be seen.
The political vision shaping institutional art
The intervention of political power in contemporary cultural institutions continues to reopen this debate. In the United States, recent discussions around the Smithsonian have suggested redefining content considered divisive, prioritizing narratives aligned with a particular vision of national history shaped by political leadership.
These tensions have raised concerns about the academic and artistic independence of cultural institutions.
If political power decides what is displayed and what is hidden, art stops being a mirror of reality and becomes a tool of control.
Art as an uncomfortable mirror of its time
Despite everything, art persists.
Today, many Latin American artists in the United States explore themes of immigration, identity, and belonging. Their work does not only tell personal stories—it engages directly with the social and political context that surrounds them.
As a reflection of the world, the artist captures both the light and the shadows of our society. Art remains a mirror of our present, but it is not always a comfortable one.
And perhaps that is precisely where its greatest value lies.
Art and Politics and the direct influence of power on culture
When power takes control of culture, art stops being a mirror of humanity and becomes the loudspeaker of a regime. As artists, we witness how this influence suffocates creativity in three key ways:
- Aesthetic control: In highly controlled systems, only art that glorifies the state is allowed, erasing individual vision.
- Institutions as showcases: Museums cease to be spaces for dialogue and become platforms for ideological validation.
- Silenced generations: Artists grow under pressure or in exile, losing the freedom to experiment.
A museum that offers only imposed certainties is, in reality, a monument to silence.
Art and Politics: an open reflection
Art and Politics in exhibitions is not in conflict with a simple solution. Censorship, in certain contexts, may respond to real needs of social coexistence. Not every space is prepared for every discourse.
But it is also true that limiting what is shown inevitably limits what is thought.
When a work is not exhibited, it does not disappear. It remains silent. Waiting.
And within that silence, perhaps lies one of the most important questions any society can ask itself:
What are we choosing not to see… and why?
I invite you to explore my work and, if you wish, join my painting classes, where we not only focus on technique but also reflect on how to interpret art within its cultural context.
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